


The Judge Steps Out

by FancyFree2813



Category: due South
Genre: F/M, Mention of torture, serious angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-12
Updated: 2020-10-12
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:13:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 22,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26974228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FancyFree2813/pseuds/FancyFree2813
Summary: Renfield makes an unfortunate career choice and everyone - EVERYONE - suffers because of it. Ray finds love...or does he?
Relationships: Benton Fraser/Margaret Thatcher, Ray Kowalski/Other, Renfield Turnbull/Kerri





	The Judge Steps Out

**Author's Note:**

> This story takes place in my Layers universe, but is not a sequel to anything, and will not be a part of the series. Please read at least some of the Layers stories to better understand the characters I have created – Kerri, Dickens, Lance, Richard Turnbull and Marie Laurier Brock to name a few. 
> 
> I originally created the character of Kerri to serve as a point of contention between Renfield Turnbull and Benton Fraser. I wanted to create an intelligent, physically beautiful woman who was not the least bit interested in Fraser, the handsome Mountie in Red Serge, but inexplicably drawn to the bumbling, socially deficient Turnbull instead. She was to be a throw away character, one who I would use once and never again. 
> 
> Fortunately or not, depending on one’s point of view, my best intentions never quite made it to paper, and my desire to have Turnbull win out over Fraser in a battle over Kerri never quite materialized. I just could never seem to get Fraser interested in her. What did happen, quite unintentionally, at least at first, was the development of a bond between Kerri and Ray Kowalski. Through all the Layers series the way Ray has felt about her has remained constant: unrequited love. 
> 
> For quite some time I wanted to explore what a relationship between Ray Kowalski and Kerri might be like, and what sort of catastrophe would have had to transpire to bring them together. And since Kerri refused to let me ‘throw her away’ I wrote that story. I am calling it 'The Judge Steps Out'. Not because that title has anything at all to do with the story, but because it is the title of an old film noir movie (circa 1949) that presents the same type of moral dilemma.
> 
> This is not a happy story. It is dark, and I am positive that no one, whether fans of Ray Kowalski, Turnbull, or both, will like the way it ends. 
> 
> So, once again I am trying something different, at least I have never read anything quite like it. I am posting it the way I originally wrote it, the way I wanted it to end, but then I will also include 3 alternate endings. I will leave it to you to decide. That statement will make sense after you have read it.

The Judge Steps Out  
by Shirley Russell

It had been exactly one year: one year; twelve months; three hundred and sixty-five days of agony. One year since the accident that had, for all intents and purposes ended her life. 

She hoped that they would have remembered, that one of their friends would be here to observe this day with her, but she was wrong. She supposed she should not be surprised, no one loved him as much as she did, and a year was a long time, after all.

The weather befit the occasion, storm clouds hung on the horizon, and as the Chicago wind so often did, it blew right through her coat and into her soul. The frozen ground crunched beneath her feet and echoed through this empty place. 

God, how she hated it here! Placing flowers in a vase in the freezing wind seemed so ludicrous. Hot house blossoms that would be shriveled and dead moments after she placed them near the cold stone marker. But she had never been able to resist his magnetism in life, from the first moment she had laid eyes on him, and in death it was no different. Oh, she had tried to resist coming here! Dear God, how she had tried. But she could not stay away from this place, not even if her own life depended on it.

So here she was again, on a day that seemed to need its own observance. Not because it deserved special notice, but because this day was different, it was an anniversary, the anniversary of his death. The injustice of it made her want to scream. She was never given the opportunity to celebrate an anniversary with him in life, but here she was, commemorating the day he died. To say she was bitter would be a gross understatement, they had had so very little time together, and that time was fraught with tribulations. There had been so little time to glory in the love they felt for each other. She vacillated between anger and self-pity. How dare he leave her when they had so much to live for! 

She had long since stopped blaming God. Oh, she had decided several months ago that God certainly had a perverted sense of humor, to allow her to find the truly perfect love and then snatch it all away in one agonizing second. But his death wasn’t God’s fault. If she cared to think about it, she probably no longer believed in a higher power anyway.

She had no idea how long she stood there, staring at his name carved in marble. She really didn’t care how long it had been, time mattered very little to her anymore. But finally her body succumbed to numbness from the cold, and she knew she must leave.

Before she turned away from him, she realized that this was the first time she had visited him here without tears. That frightened her somewhat, if her grief was lessening that must mean she was forgetting him. She would never, could never allow herself to forget the only person she had ever loved! She often wished she had died with him, but as long as she still had breath in her body she would not forget.

Finally, she turned away and walked back toward the path. When she glanced up she was greeted with a sight that slightly warmed her icy heart, and caused her to regret her petty thoughts about her friends. Leaning against her car, arms crossed and smiling, waiting patiently, while allowing her private moments, was the man who had become more than her best friend. Of course he would be here, how could she have possibly thought otherwise? The man who had been there for her from the first moment she had heard the news.

She had to smile at him, how could she not? He had always known exactly what she needed, exactly when to hold her close, and exactly when to give her space. Always offering his support and never asking for anything in return. It had been a hard year for him too, offering her comfort through his own grief. But until just recently she had not allowed herself to acknowledge anyone else’s pain. Just within the last month had she given in to the pangs of regret. She now knew she had taken far too much and had given nothing back.

She and her friend had cried together at the news of the accident and they had railed at God together at the injustice of it all. He kept watch over her in all the months afterwards, giving her what he believed he had failed to give both of them prior to the accident, his protection. For some unfathomable reason he had appointed himself their champion, their guardian from all the evils that life seemed to be throwing in their path. She was sorry now because she knew that to his mind he had failed.

_________________________________________________

One year earlier:

Inspector Thatcher had been genuinely perplexed. In all her years as a commanding officer, not that there were that many, she had never received such an order. She was to inform Constable Turnbull that he had been summoned to Toronto. That in itself was of no major concern to her, her people often went there for training or meetings. Her source of confusion was that she was given no reason, no explanation for the need for Turnbull to go. The officer that had called hadn't known the particulars, and really didn't sound that interested.

So Meg did as instructed and passed along the information to her junior officer. What she didn't know was that Renfield had already received travel orders, orders that countermanded Inspector Thatcher's. Those orders had come directly from Deputy Commissioner Whittle. Renfield was to go to Canada, not to Toronto, but to Ottawa instead. The orders that Inspector Thatcher had received were a ruse to cover the real purpose of his trip, which, he was told, would be explained to him upon his arrival in Ottawa.

So now he stood in the lobby of what he had once heard Ray refer to as the ‘Mother Ship’, RCMP Headquarters in Ottawa. The personal summons he had received from Deputy Commissioner Whittle had at once thrilled and terrified him. With trepidation he had come as summoned, with instructions that under no circumstance was he to tell anyone where he was really going, or why. 

Since he had no clue why he was here, the second part of the instructions was a cinch. The first part was not quite as easy. He was afraid that Kerri, thinking he was going to Toronto, would want to go with him, to visit her old friend Inspector Scott. In the end she had reluctantly decided that the shop was far too busy to leave right before the holidays, and Renfield breathed a nervous sigh of relief.

__________

One hour later an ashen-faced Constable Turnbull emerged from Deputy Commissioner Whittle's office. He was unable to make it halfway down the hall before he found it necessary to lean against the wall for support.

What they were asking of him was unthinkable! It was impossible that they would even consider such a thing. It did, in a small way, make him rather proud that they would select him for such an assignment. But there was no way, no earthly way he could even consider it. To ask him to . . . No! He would not do it!

They did not order him, of course. But they made the assignment sound so appealing, so noble, so patriotic! He was not interested in being a hero, but oh, what an opportunity to serve his country! All his life he had wanted to make a difference, to do something that would help others, that was the original reason he became a teacher. They knew that and had insinuated that he would be helping children. That, more than anything else, gave him pause. But no! He could not possibly do what they were asking, and he had told them as much . . . hadn't he?

As he remembered now, he had not actually said 'no', he had said something about 'thinking about it'. Dear God, there was no way! He had suggested Constable Fraser. Wasn't he more qualified for such work? But no, they had said Fraser was not their choice, he was! He could not believe that anyone, especially superior officers, would select him over Fraser, believing him to be more qualified for this specific assignment. Yes, it was unthinkable.

They explained that his physical appearance, combined with the circumstances of his birth, could be used to create the perfect cover. They noticed his hesitation to participate in an operation that was based solely on the way he looked and hurried to assure him that these qualifications were only a cover, a convenient coincidence that would be utilized to the maximum extent possible. They tried appealing to his vanity, and immediately discovered he didn’t have a vain bone in his body. So they quickly changed tactics, back to ‘service to his country’, and were gratified to see by the indecision on his face that it worked like a charm.

It might have been unthinkable, but that is exactly what he did. Returning to his hotel room that night, Renfield did think about the assignment, he could think of little else. By morning, he had made his decision, as his superior officers knew he would. He would go undercover, infiltrate the underground world of drug traffickers. He would go undercover, and no one, including his wife and his best friends could know what he was doing for fear of putting himself and them in danger.

Deputy Commissioner Whittle arranged a cover story for Renfield’s absence from home for the next few weeks. Constable Turnbull had been assigned to train as an observer to assist CPD helicopter pilots, in the off chance that he might ever be needed. Three weeks later, ten days before Christmas, Whittle arranged for Constable Turnbull to 'die' in a helicopter crash in Elora Gorge, Ontario.

And so, one week before Christmas, Kerri, Richard Turnbull, both Rays, Fraser and Meg, along with a large group of mourners, Canadian and Americans, children and adults, interred the ashes of their friend and loved one. Constable Renfield Turnbull, the goofy Mountie turned fine RCMP officer, was laid to rest just outside the city that he had come to think of as his home.  
_________________________________________________

Present day:

Kerri left the mausoleum and walked toward Ray. She felt a small lightness in her step as she headed toward the man who leaned casually against her car. She wondered how long he had been standing there. She knew he must be very cold, that leather jacket afforded little protection from the Chicago wind. She knew because he had loaned it to her often over the last year.

Ray watched as Kerri trudged toward him. If he lived to be one hundred years old, he would never get over the pain that watching her at this place caused him.

They had known they’d find her here. They had stopped by the bookshop earlier, to keep her company, to cheer her up, as if that were possible. But no one was there, they had apparently just missed her. But they’d known where they would find her. 

He was really the one who had known where she’d be, just as he had been able to anticipate her movements ever since the accident. He watched as she made her way toward him, and his heart leapt in his chest as it always did when she was near. It used to make him feel like a jerk, feeling that way about the wife of his best friend. But his best friend was dead and had been dead for a year. He’d come to terms with that, and now believed the way he felt about her was as natural as breathing. Completely unrequited, but natural nonetheless.

She smiled at him just slightly and he was thrilled to the core. The fact that she could smile at all amazed him, but maybe, just maybe she was beginning to heal. He would never have thought of what he was considering now just a month ago. She was so vulnerable, and as much as he believed he sucked as an individual, he did have a few rules he adhered to, and one was he would never take advantage of her emotional state.

But she had changed over the last few weeks, emerging from that dark place she had retreated to when Turnbull died. He still hadn’t heard her actually admit he was dead, she still referred to it as ‘the accident’ or when Renfield ‘left her’. But he had heard her laugh at the antics of Dickens and Cameo’s puppies just a week ago, and caught just a wisp of a smile at something Meg had said only two days ago. 

And so, he was considering risking everything and telling her how he felt. Just considering it, mind you. He had yet to really decide.

“Have you been waiting long?” she asked as she walked up. “Where’s your car?”

“Frase 'n Meg dropped me off. They thought ya’d like some company, but not a crowd, so they went on. I’ve been here a few minutes.”

“You must be frozen! You should have let me know you were here, and then you wouldn’t have had to stand in the cold.” They both knew that he would never interrupt her private time. He had proven that to her over and over again the last year.

“Nah, I like standin’ in the cold,” he lied.

“Sure you do. You want to drive?” She knew she didn’t need to ask, Ray loved her car. She used to think that the ’66 Mustang was main reason Ray hung out with her and Renny. He grinned like a teenager when she pulled the keys out of her pocket and tossed them to him.

They rode for a while in silence, comfortable just to be in each other’s company. Kerri had only recently begun to admit it to herself; the only place she felt almost completely untroubled was with Ray. She could relax, and the fog of pain that constantly hung over her lifted just slightly whenever he was near. 

Finally Kerri became aware that Ray was beginning to fidget, which usually meant he had something on his mind. “Is something bothering you?” she asked.

“Who, me?” he stalled.

Kerri smiled slightly as she looked around the car. “I don’t see anyone else, so yes, you.”

Ray hesitated. Now was definitely not the time to tell her what he was thinking, but he couldn’t come up with a plausible lie.

“Ray, what’s wrong?”

“Ya hungry? Want an early dinner, late lunch, whatever, my treat?”

Kerri knew something was bothering him and recognized immediately his habit of changing the subject to food whenever he didn’t want to discuss something. She’d find out what it was eventually, just not right now.

“Your treat? Can I name the place?”

“Yep.”

“Sizzler.”

“Sizzler!? Why?”

“Because it’s fast and cheap, just like you.”

Ray was so shocked he almost ran the car off the road. He hadn’t heard her make a joke, even if it was a weak Canadian attempt at humor, in over a year. Damn, but it warmed his heart.

When he recovered from the shock, he cast a glance her way and saw her grinning at him. It was at that moment he decided, and if he didn’t tell her soon, he was going to self-combust.  
_________________________________________________

In the end they didn’t go to Sizzler. They found a great steak place on Michigan Ave and had Ray’s favorite, New York steak, medium rare, with loaded baked potatoes, sautéed mushrooms, and side salads. Ray wasn’t sure when it happened, but just a few weeks ago he’d noticed that they both seemed to always eat the same things. He hoped that meant something, he just wasn’t sure what it was.

Over a bottle of passable California cabernet they tried to forget the significance of this day. “Wanna split some cherry cheesecake? They got really good cheesecake here.”

“Sure, but if I try to keep up with you in the amount of food you eat, I’m going to weigh two hundred pounds. How do you do that?”

“What?”

Kerri stared at him over the candle flickering on the table. The candlelight served to make him looked worried and - mysterious. “What’s bothering you? You haven’t heard two words I’ve said since we got here.”

Ray slowly laid his napkin next to his plate. He had to do this, he could do this - it was time. “Can we go now? I need ta talk, but not here.”

He was so serious it scared her. “Sure,” she whispered, “but please, are you okay?”

He took her hand and smiled, the lopsided grin that she had come to rely on so much over the last several months. “I’m great, I just got some stuff I need ta say, an here’s not the best place ta say it.” Kerri wasn’t completely reassured, but as with so many things with Ray, she knew she’d find out eventually. 

As they had done so many times in the last year, they ended up back at the bookshop. Kerri insisted on continuing to live there, and Ray insisted on not leaving her alone until the last possible moment. And so he had spent a lot of time at the bookshop over the last year.

They were settled companionably in her apartment before she could no longer stand his fidgeting. “You are really beginning to worry me. Ever since, since the acc . . . accident, you’ve always been there for me. If there’s something wrong, please let me help? Is there something wrong at work? Some case you're concerned about?”

He saw the change immediately. Kerri really hadn't cared about anything since Turnbull died, but now she was concerned about him. Ray was warmed all the way down to his toes. He also knew that it was now or never. He’d rehearsed what he would say, if he ever decided to say it, to her for weeks, but he couldn’t remember a thing he’d practiced. Damn. “Ya know how much I care about ya? An how much I cared bout Turnbull?”

‘Oh dear,’ Kerri thought, ‘he’s finally going to tell me he’s put up with me as long as he can.’ “Of course I know,” she whispered. “You’ve been our best friend from the very first.”

“Ya see, that’s just it." He hesitated just long enough to really worry her. "I was yer friend, both of ya, but I felt more than that for you.” God, that wasn’t even close to what he wanted to say.

Kerri offered him a very weak smile. “I know you used to feel – differently about me. But--”

“--’n I still do,” he whispered. He moved to where she was sitting and tried his best to look her in the eye. “I love ya honey, ‘n I don’t mean like a friend . . . ” He knelt in front of her and gently brought her chin up until their eyes met. 

As their eyes locked, Ray could no longer resist the urge to kiss her. His lips brushed hers softly as he prayed she would respond. His heart almost jumped out of his chest when he felt her lightly press against his mouth with hers. He felt the uncontrollable need to deepen their kiss and was thrilled as Kerri reacted in kind.

He pulled her closer and encircled her in his embrace. But, just as quickly as she had succumbed to the touch of his lips on hers, Kerri flew out of his arms and ran to the other side of the room. Terrified, she clasped her hands over her mouth.

“Jez, Kerri, I’m sorry.” Ray was right behind her. He stood only inches away but was afraid to touch her. “I didn’t mean to scare ya,” he whispered.

“I can’t believe I did that. Renfield--”

“Is dead. Turnbull's dead!”

“Ray please! Don’t--”

“Say it, damn it!” He was shocked at his own words. “Honey, I’m sorry,” he whispered, “but Renfield died a year ago, you didn’t. He’s dead, Kerri.”

Kerri started to cry. “Ray, please, don’t. I . . . I can’t . . .”

Ray finally lost it. All the grief, anger, frustration, and desire he had kept inside over the last year came boiling to the surface. He grabbed her arm and forced her to look at him. “Renfield’s dead! He DIED, but you didn’t! But you’ve been hidin’ yerself away as if ya did! It’s time ya started livin’ again.” Her tears just made him angrier. “God damn it! I love you! I’m here, ‘n I’m alive! HE left you, not ME! Say it, dammit, say--” Before he could say another word Kerri slapped him hard across the cheek. 

Ray recoiled, more from shock than from the force of her slap. The blow did serve one purpose, however. It knocked the wind right out of his sails, and his anger dissipated immediately. Along with it went his resolve.

He stared at her for several moments before he knew. Kerri would never love him, and the knowledge sucked all the air right out of his lungs. When he could finally find his voice he said the words he’d prayed he would never have to say. “Well . . . I guess that settles that. Goodbye, Kerri. I . . . I guess I’ll see ya . . . around.”

He turned on his heel and left her apartment.

_________________________________________________

The heavy rain was just beginning to turn to snow as Ray walked back to his apartment, but somehow he didn’t notice. Not having a car with him was really a blessing. He needed the time to think and the fresh, for Chicago at least, air served to clear his head.

“Kowalski,” he muttered to himself, “if ya didn’t suck before, ya sure do now! Tell her ya love her, that’s s’pposed ta be simple, right? But no, ya gotta go screw things up ‘n yell at her! God what a jerk.”

By the time he reached his apartment it was very dark and very cold, just like his soul. He’d made a decision during the long walk home, though. He’d give her a couple of days, and then go to Kerri and beg her forgiveness. He couldn’t lose her as a friend, she was too important to him. A tiny glimmer of hope still remained that one day she would be able to forgive him, and maybe, if there really were a God, she’d learn to love again. And maybe it would be him she’d learn to love.

“Yeah, right. When pigs fly.” But he could still hope.

He sat in the darkness his apartment illuminated only by the flashing neon sign from the theater across the street. It cast an eerie glow across the floor of his living room and into the kitchen. Ray watched the lights as the colors changed from yellow to red to green. It was somehow soothing to him, the rhythm causing him to sway in his chair. 

After a very long time, he was relaxed enough to fall asleep in the chair.

__________

Kerri stood in the center of her living room for a very long time after Ray left. She was horrified when she felt herself respond to the warmth of his kiss, and even more horrified when she hit him. Her best friend, the one person that she had always been able to count on, the man who had always been there for her. She knew he loved her, she tried not to think about it, but she knew. And she had taken advantage of that fact since the accident.

Whenever she needed a shoulder to cry on, it was Ray’s. Whenever she was lonely and needed company, it was Ray’s. Whenever she needed to rage against life for treating her so unfairly, it was Ray who listened.

And now she had pushed him away, and he might never come back.

She finally made her way into the bedroom and found Wolffy. No one knew that she had slept with Renfield’s childhood stuffed toy every night since he’d left. She wasn’t ashamed of it, not really, but she did find the comfort she took from the stuffed wolf a little strange.

She curled up on the window seat and cuddled Wolffy to her breast as she watched the snow melt and trickle down the glass. She truly believed she had ruined the best friendship she had ever known. But, damn him, he’d taken her so by surprise. And made her feel feelings she didn’t want to acknowledge.

She sat for several minutes, not really thinking of anything, and thinking of everything. Finally, when she could no longer deny her feelings, she began to whisper to Wolffy. “Renfield is gone, Wolffy, and he’s not coming back - ever." She took a deep breath before she could form the thought or turn the thought into words. "He’s d . . . dead. He died. In a helicopter crash.” Tears streamed down her cheeks, but they were not tears of despair, they were more tears of farewell. After so long, she was finally beginning to let go. “Ray says I need to get on with my life, because I’m not dead. Is it wrong for me to move on? I feel so disloyal to Renny. I loved him, and I don’t know that I will ever stop loving him.” She held the stuffed wolf even more tightly. “I don’t know if I want to face life without him,” she whispered. “I’m scared to find out.”

She laid her head back against the wall and dozed off.  
__________

Ray awoke from a terrible dream late in the evening. His nap had left him feeling disoriented and shaken. It had also left him feeling hungry. Since he knew there was nothing in his place to eat, he ordered a pizza.

While he waited for the pizza to be delivered, he tried unsuccessfully to forget all that had taken place earlier in the day. He just couldn’t get the look in her eyes out of his mind. He’d promised himself a very long time ago that he would never do anything to make her cry, and yet he’d done it. 

When the doorbell rang he was surprised that they’d gotten here so quickly. Maybe this time it wouldn’t be cold. He got another surprise when he opened the door.

“Ya know it better not be co--”

He was stopped dead, mid-sentence, by the sight of a very cold, very wet Kerri, dripping on his doorstep, standing right in front of the pizza delivery guy. He stared at her for several moments, not really sure he was seeing what he thought he was seeing.

Kerri did not speak either. She was so cold her teeth were chattering, and completely unsure if he even wanted her near him. She was about to turn and leave when Ray finally came to his senses.

He shoved some bills at the pizza guy, grabbed Kerri by the arm and slammed the door behind her. “Good God, get in here before ya freeze ta death.” Their earlier encounter temporarily forgotten, he threw the pizza on the table. “Did ya walk – ya don’t need ta answer that. I know ya did. Dammit, how many times do I gotta tell ya it's dangerous out there? Not ta mention cold ‘n wet. Yer gonna catch pneumonia or sumthin’.”

He left her standing in the center of the room and ran to get a blanket. “Take off yer coat ‘n I’ll help ya dry off.” 

She did as she was told in silence, still too cold to speak. Once she had removed her coat though, Ray could see that just drying off was not going to help. She was soaked to the skin and shivering uncontrollably. 

He grabbed her hand and pulled her to the bathroom. He ran the water in the tub until it was nice and warm and then turned on the shower. “Strip ‘n get in here. Don’t look at me like that, I’ll leave!” 

Ray paced outside his bathroom door for what seemed to him to be forever. He was so anxious to know why she was here he could hardly stand it. He almost went in after her when he heard the water shut off, he had his hand on the doorknob before he stopped himself. He ran his hands through his hair when he heard her turn on Stella’s old hair dryer, and he nearly jumped out of his skin when she cracked open the door to ask him for something dry to wear.

The best he could do was a ratty T-shirt and a blanket. She came out of the bathroom looking sheepish, and to Ray’s eyes, adorable. She was also still very cold.

“Shower help?”

She nodded slightly and then shrugged her shoulders. “A little bit.”

Ray hugged her tightly and walked her over to the sofa. He pulled her down with him and continued to hold her on his lap. “Better?”

She nodded against his chest, but he could still feel her shivering. God, she must have been frozen to the bone! “Sit still a minute.” 

He gently pushed her off his lap before he jumped up and ran to the kitchen. About five seconds after she heard a cupboard door slam closed he was back by her side. “Drink this.”

“What--?”

“Bourbon. Shut up ‘n drink it. Don’t sip, drink the whole thing.”

Kerri downed the small amount in the glass and shuddered as the amber liquid burned all the way down to her empty stomach. Ray adjusted the blanket tightly around her and cuddled her back in his arms.

They sat that way for awhile, before he couldn’t stand it anymore. Just as he was about to ask her why she was here, Kerri began to speak. “I’m sorry.” She didn’t look at him but whispered into his embrace.

“Sorry?” He couldn’t believe his ears. He yelled at her, for God’s sake! He was the one who should be sorry.

“Yeah. You are the best friend I have, and I . . . I hit you. I didn’t mean to hurt you . . .”

Ray had to smile. He’d been slapped before, and hit more times than he cared to remember, so her slap didn’t hurt him, at least not physically. “Honey, ya’d have ta hit me a whole lot harder than that ta hurt this kisser.”

She lifted her head and finally looked him in the eye. “That’s not what I meant . . .”

Ray sighed. “I know.”

“Please forgive me? I couldn’t bear to lose your friendship.”

Ray was glad he was pretty good at hiding his deepest emotions, because if he hadn’t been, Kerri would have known how much she had just hurt him, again. Friendship. He wanted so much more, but that was all she had to give.

But he had decided earlier in the evening that she was too important to him to lose, so if friendship was all she wanted, friendship it would have to be. 

__________

Kerri was finally warming up. She had never been so cold in her entire life. By the time she reached Ray’s apartment she didn’t think she’d ever be warm again. But the shower, the blanket, the bourbon and especially Ray’s embrace had worked their magic, and now she felt warm and tingly all over. She was also vastly relieved.

He had forgiven her, which made getting drenched and frozen worth the effort. She had to smile, she felt so comfortable, more comfortable and – loved, than she had in a very long time. At this moment she wanted nothing more in the world than to feel the warmth of his lips on hers once again.  
____________________________________________________

Ray held her for a very long time. Long enough for him to convince himself that Kerri’s friendship was enough. ‘Yer a lucky guy, Kowalski, ‘member that. She’s yer friend ‘n--’

His thoughts were interrupted by the strangest realization. Over the last year he had held Kerri countless times, but it had never been like this. She had yielded to his embrace in a way that was positively - arousing.

“Kerri?” he whispered as she ran her hand from under the blanket around his waist and raised her eyes to meet his. He searched her eyes briefly before he lowered his head until their lips met. He deepened their kiss momentarily, until he realized exactly where it was leading, but more importantly, why.

He pushed her away gently. 

“I don’t understand. I thought you wanted me?”

Ray reluctantly kissed the tip of her nose. “Not if it’s just cause ya think ya owe me sumthin’. I’m not lookin’ for just a roll in the hay – not with you. It’s gotta be all or nothin’ at all.”

“But . . .”

Ray stood up and laid a pillow at the end of the sofa. “Yer spendin’ the night here. You could use my room, ‘cept its pretty much a mess. Lay down ‘n get some sleep.”

__________

Kerri fell asleep almost as soon as Ray left the room. She’d wanted to follow him, to tell him - well she wasn't sure what she wanted to tell him. But her body had a mind of its own, and she succumbed to the fatigue brought on by the stress of this day.

Unlike Kerri, Ray could not sleep. He tossed and turned until he had more bedclothes on the floor than on the bed. He finally fell into a fitful, dream-laden sleep somewhere in the wee hours of the morning. He slept, but he did not rest.

Kerri was awakened by the sound of Ray thrashing about and moaning in his sleep. She wrapped the blanket around her against the cold and moved softly toward his room. The door was ajar, and she could see him, in the dim light cast from a streetlight below, desperately trying to outrun the demons in his dreams. The fleeting thought that he was as hyperactive in his sleep as he was while awake caused her to smile briefly.

She hurried through the obstacles of clothing strewn all over the floor to sit on the side of his bed. She watched him for just a moment. Watching him writhe about caused the tightness in her chest, which she had felt since first hearing of Renfield’s death, to loosen and then lift. She smiled slightly as she realized that Ray needed her, and it felt so very, very good to be needed again.

She ran the back of her hand tenderly across his brow and down either side of his face. “Shh. It’s okay,” she whispered. “Nothing’s going to get you.” She continued to caress his face and shoulders with her fingertips as she spoke softly to him. “It’s okay. I’m here now.”

She was startled when she looked up and found him staring at her intently. He looked totally confused, and just a little frightened. 

“You were having a bad dream, and I just . . . just . . .”

“What?” he whispered.

“You said you wanted it all . . . or . . . or nothing . . . at all. I’d like to try, Ray. I’d like to learn how to love again . . . I’d like to have you teach me how.”

He brushed her hair out of her eyes and smiled. “Ya sure?”

Kerri opened the blanket and enveloped him as he pulled her down next to him.

____________________________________________________

Ray had been dreaming about snow – lots of snow. He flailed his arms and ran around in circles, desperately seeking shelter from a blizzard blowing fiercely around him. The wind whipped the snowflakes so viciously they bit at his skin and forced him to keep his eyes almost closed. He was lost. He couldn’t tell up from down, or even forward from back. He was terrified that he would die here, not even knowing where here was.

Suddenly he could see lights just in front of him, only a few feet away. He stumbled, as best he could, through the deepening snow, toward what he could now tell was a tiny cabin. Tiny being the operative word. The closer he got, the smaller the cabin became, until it was barely larger than a doll’s house. When he finally reached the tiny door, he had to throw himself to the ground and still the best he could do was to get his face inside.

A warm fire was the source of the light shining through the windows. The rest of his body was still bitterly cold, but the fire burning from within warmed his face and shoulders.

And then he opened his eyes and saw Kerri leaning over him. He was sure he was still dreaming. He’d certainly had this dream before, and it had always been just as real. But as he watched her caress his body, Ray slowly became aware that this time it was real. Dear God, this really was happening!

She was really here, sitting on his bed next to him, wrapped in his tattered blanket.

__________

Kerri calmed his fears with her caress, but after Ray awoke she wasn’t sure she could go any farther. She was so unsure that she could feel anything, ever again, and terrified to find out.

He sensed her hesitation and knew she needed him to help her. Just like – well, not just like – she had so many times over the last year.

“Mmm,” he muttered as he pulled her on top of him, “yer nice n’ warm. Warm me up.” He gently caressed her back. Long, tender caresses that he hoped would help her relax.

“You are cold. You were sleeping without any covers . . .”

He whispered into kisses on her cheek and neck, “you’ll warm me up.” When he realized she wasn’t responding in the way he’d hoped he coaxed her onto her back and came down upon her until their lips met.

At first his lips were soft and undemanding. But though he fought to control himself he couldn’t help but deepen their kiss. She was so warm, and so soft, and her mouth so terribly inviting. He ran his tongue along her lips, teasing her to open to him.

____________________________________________________

Kerri was certain that Ray loved her, she’d known it for a very long time. She hadn’t always wanted to admit it to herself, but she’d known. Over the last year it had been the one thing that she could count on. And now she might have ruined it.

Ray awoke with a start. He knew immediately there was something wrong, and the moment he felt Kerri’s shuddering sigh he was sure of it. “Kerri?” he whispered. “What’s wrong?”

When she didn’t immediately answer, he rose up on his elbow and kissed her ear lobe. “Don’t clam up on me now,” he whispered into his kisses. “You upset because ya think yer bein’ unfaithful?”

Kerri shook her head.

He finally sat up next to her. “Honey, if ya think bein’ with me means you’ll forget him, yer wrong. Hell, he’s wasn’t the kinda guy any a us would ever forget. Member that time in the cemetery in Vancouver, when Turnbull told ya he could finally put the past behind him? It took him a long time ta get over it, but he never forgot them. Just because yer startin’ ta live again doesn’t mean ya have ta forget the past.”

Kerri didn’t turn over but answered softly, “it's not just that. I’m just . . . just afraid . . .”

“Afraid? Afraid a what?”

“I . . . I’m afraid that I’ll disappoint you.”

If Ray hadn’t known how deadly serious she was, he would have laughed out loud. “Come mere.” He pulled on her shoulder to turn her over and gently draw her to him. “Lookit me. Do I look like I’m disappointed? Did I act like I was disappointed when I held ya in my arms just then?” He grinned at her. “I’ve known ya for a long time now. I’ve seen ya really happy, awfully sad, angry, a couple a times at me, and I’ve seen ya just bein’ Kerri. I know ya pretty damn well, ‘n now I know ya even better.” He grinned more broadly as he pushed her hair off her shoulder. “There’s nothin’ ya could do ta disappoint me.”

Kerri sat up next to him and kissed him deeply. 

__________

Kerri slept, but Ray did not. He was so excited, so grateful to whatever God there might be, but he was still having trouble believing this whole thing was real. And he couldn’t get Turnbull out of his mind. He didn’t feel like he was betraying his lost friend, but he did still feel like he’d failed him. 

Ever since Turnbull died, Ray had blamed himself. Logically, of course, there was nothing he could have done to prevent the accident, but he had promised both of them he’d protect them. And he’d failed. Now he held Kerri in his arms, and it scared him to think that he might in some way fail her too.

He pulled her even closer and held on for all he was worth. “God,” he whispered, “I don’t know if Ya listen ta a schmuck like me, but please don’t let me screw this up. She means a helluva,” he sighed deeply, “sorry, a lot ta me. She’s had enough. I can’t let her get hurt again. Please help me ta protect her. I love her, God.”

Ray fell asleep with the prayer in his heart.

____________________________________________________

The next morning when Ray awoke he was alone, but there was no doubt in his mind or his heart that she had been there with him, all night. He could feel warm places in his soul that had never known anything but cold, and the realization made him smile deeply.

The smell of coffee told him exactly where she was. Taking only enough time to yank on his jeans, he hurried to the kitchen, just to reinforce to himself that she really was here.

He stopped short at the kitchen door and grinned. ‘Yep,’ he thought, ‘she’s really here. Boy is she here!’

Kerri was searching through cupboards and hadn’t heard Ray approach. She stood with her back to him, wearing only his worn old T-shirt. The bottom hem of the shirt barely covered her bottom, and when she reached up to the top of the cupboard to search there, the shirt revealed the loveliest view.

Ray whistled. “Nice.”

Kerri whirled around, her face red with embarrassment, and he could see tears in her eyes. “God, Ray, you startled me.”

His heart dropped through the floor. He knew immediately that he was the cause of the tears. God damn it! How could he keep doing this to her?

“I sorry. I didn’t mean ta make ya cry.”

Kerri sighed as she slowly laid the coffee cups that she had found in the top cupboard, on the counter. “Why do you always do that? Assume that you’ve made me unhappy? I’m crying because I’m happy! Don’t you know what a wonderful gift you gave me last night?”

____________________________________________________

Over the remaining two weeks before Christmas, Ray and Kerri fell into a fairly regular routine. After work they would shop for the Christmas presents that neither one of them had ever expected to feel like buying, eat at some little, out of the way restaurant, and eventually find their way into Ray’s bed. But every night, except the very first one, after a few hours Kerri would get up and go home.

He begged her to just spend the night, and when that didn’t work, he insisted on it. He told her it was too dangerous, slick roads and all, for her to go home so late, but Kerri was adamant. No matter how warm and inviting his arms were, or how late the hour was, Kerri insisted on leaving to spend the rest of the night in her own apartment.

Ray never said anything, he could barely admit it to himself, but he was pretty sure she felt like she was betraying Turnbull’s memory. And he was right – up to a point.

Kerri had vowed to Renfield right after he’d died that she would never stop loving him, and she hadn’t. But she realized now that she was learning to love Ray, and she couldn’t reconcile the two emotions. In her mind starting to love Ray was tantamount to starting to stop loving Renny.

Every night after making love with Ray, she would climb into her cold Mustang and hurry home through the icy, deserted Chicago streets to cuddle with Wolffy, and try desperately to remember what loving Renfield had been like. And every night it got harder and harder. Finally, two days before Christmas, Kerri reluctantly came to terms with the fact that she was happy with Ray, and she needed to get on with her life.

That night, Kerri left Ray sleeping peacefully and went home to her apartment to say goodbye to Wolffy - and to Renfield. She pulled a small cardboard box out of her closet, and even though she knew it was a silly thing to do, she took an old bath towel and made a comfortable little nest for Wolffy to rest in when she packed him away.

She cried as she picked him up off her pillow. “I know you’re just a stuffed toy, but you helped Renny through some really tough times when he was a little boy, and you’ve dried my tears for a year now. I’ve got to leave you . . . both of you, behind me now.” Tears streamed, unheeded, down her cheeks. “It’s not easy, you know? But I’ve fallen in love again, and I’ve got to let myself be happy. Please understand?” She placed him gently in the box and closed the lid.

She packed a bag and sat it at the foot of her bed. Ray didn’t know it yet, but Kerri’s gift to him this Christmas was herself. He’d been asking her everyday since their first time together, and now Kerri had decided – she was going to move in with him.  
__________

It was the first time Ray had had a Christmas tree in a very long time. It was really the first time he’d wanted to celebrate Christmas in any way since he and Stella were still together. But after his first night with Kerri Ray could think of nothing he wanted more than to have a tree. So this year he’d really outdone himself, an eight foot Fraser fir. He’d gotten a kick out of that, and teased Fraser about decorating him for Christmas. Kerri just giggled when she saw Ray and Fraser fighting with the tree to get it up the stairs and through the door of his apartment.

“Ray, don’t you think this tree is rather large for your apartment?” Fraser asked from somewhere near the other end of the tree, the end that was still sticking out into the hall.

“If yer gonna do sumthin’ ya might as well do it right.”

Fraser shrugged his shoulders and said to no one in particular, “if you say so.” With a mouth full of needles he barked at Ray, “lift your end up higher, trees don’t bend in the middle as much as you’re trying to bend it around the corner.”

Kerri continued to giggle, and smile. To both men, the sound of her laughter was worth whatever struggle they had to get the thing in to the apartment. Once they got it upright, it touched the ceiling but they all had to admit it was a beautiful tree.

Ray and Kerri spent several evenings at Walmart and a few other stores trying to find just the right ornaments and garland to decorate the enormous tree. Ray wanted to string popcorn as a decoration but ended up eating his handiwork. They wrapped gifts for Fraser and Meg, for Vecchio and Lieutenant Welsh and for Lance and Art. They danced slowly by the lighted tree to Nat King Cole’s ‘Christmas Song’, clinging to each other in the warm glow. All in all it was a happy, hectic, loving, comfortable time for both of them.

On Christmas Eve, Kerri fixed a traditional English Christmas dinner for them, complete with roast beef and Yorkshire pudding, and Ray did his part by eating everything in sight. He couldn’t remember ever being happier than he was at that moment. Helping her clean up after their meal made him feel decidedly - domestic.

Something was bothering him though. He’d given her a gold bracelet earlier in the evening, and though he didn’t expect anything in return, he was rather disappointed. As Kerri finished up in the kitchen, Ray turned off the living room lights and settled in his recliner to watch the snow falling softly outside his window and the Christmas lights that twinkled on their tree. Kerri had turned on the radio to a classical station that played Christmas Carols quietly in the background. Even bothered by the lack of a gift, Ray felt a level of contentment that he had never known existed.

“Isn’t it funny how Christmas snow is always more beautiful than any other?” she whispered as she settled on the arm of his chair.

“Fresh snow can make even the ugliest stuff look good.” He pulled her into his lap and held her tightly. “This’s been bout the most perfect Christmas I ever had.” He squeezed her. “Thanks.”

Kerri cuddled against his chest, genuinely happy, thoughts of Renfield only a vaguely disquieting memory.

“I love you, ya know?” Ray expected her usual response, the ‘I know’ that he’d learned to accept as the best she could do. So when her response came he almost dropped her off his lap.

“I know you do,” she whispered into his chest. But then she raised up and looked deeply into his eyes. “And I love you, too.”

He was positive he hadn’t heard her correctly. “What?” ‘Oh, great Kowalski! Nice comeback!’ he thought.

“I said I love you.” She grinned at the shocked expression on his face. “Thank you for showing me how to do it again.”

Ray recovered quickly. “I’d show ya anything, anytime.” He kissed her with all the passion and love that he’d kept to himself, even over the last few weeks. “Why don’t we celebrate Christmas in the other room?” He nodded toward the bedroom.

“I haven’t given you your present yet.”

Ray was shocked. “Ya mean there’s more?” Even though he figured he’d never need anything else, ever again, the idea of getting another present appealed to the little boy in him.

“I hope you like it. I mean it’s something you asked for, so I think it’s something you want. At least I hope so, if not I’ve made a really embarrassing mistake.”

Ray was completely confused. Kerri was stalling. He seen her do many things, but never, in all the time he’d known her, had he known her to stall. She was obviously nervous about something, and it had to do with his gift.

“Come on, do I hafta beg for it?” He tickled her until she jumped off his lap.

“Okay, okay!” She walked around to the back of the monster tree and disappeared.

“Oh, no! A people eatin’ tree! She’s been eaten by a tree!” he teased.

Kerri came out from behind the tree carrying a suitcase. “I hope it’s something you want, I know it’s something you will, uh, take pleasure from.” She started to giggle and Ray was even more confused.

“I don’t get it. Is that some kinda new wrappin’ paper? Is my present inside yer suitcase?”

“I guess you could say that I’m your present, if you’ll have me.” She took a deep breath before she continued. “I’ve heard it said that home is where the heart is, so – I guess I’m home. Some of my clothes are in here, I thought I could get the rest in a couple of days, when we reopen the bookshop.” She could not interpret the look on his face, and suddenly wondered if this was such a good idea. “I mean, that is, if you want me to stay. . .”

Ray was dumbfounded but recovered his composure very quickly. “That’s it? That’s all ya got me? I was hopin’ fer a coupla new CDs . . .”

Kerri was so shocked she didn’t have a response. “I’m . . . I’m . . . sorry . . . I . . . thought . . .”

Ray launched himself out of his chair and grabbed her into a huge bear hug, almost knocking her off her feet. “I was kiddin’! Ya couldn’t a given me anythin’ better. Jeez, of course I want ya ta stay. I may never even let ya outta this apartment.”

He kissed her so long and so hard that he left her gasping for breath. “Merry Christmas,” she said breathlessly.

____________________________________________________

Renfield Turnbull spent that Christmas under heavy guard in a Colombian hospital, fighting for his life. He clung to life by only the barest thread as his undercover contact, Concepcion Juarez tried frantically to contact his superiors in Ottawa.

Renfield had agreed to his undercover assignment with the express understanding that it would only last a couple of months. Come hell or high water, he insisted he had to get back to Kerri and his friends in just a few weeks. Deputy Commissioner Whittle had assured him that his assignment was a fairly simple matter of infiltrating a local minor league baseball team, the Kokanees, and befriending a Colombian national named Manuel Gallegos. Whittle had really believed that too, at the time. There was some indication that Gallegos was in Canada to do more than just play ball. And if the huge influx of cocaine on the streets of Ottawa was any indication, Gallegos was a whole lot better at his night job than he was at playing baseball.

Renfield had always considered himself a major sports nut, but primarily curling and hockey. If asked he would have had to admit to being a rather over the top fan of the Hamilton Steelheads hockey team. Of course it was Kerri who was an over the top fan of their center, #9, Mark Simpson, who she always described as ‘devastatingly handsome’. Somewhat jealous, Renfield always told her he didn’t see it. Oh, sure, he moved with the grace of a cat on the ice, but off the ice Renfield thought Simpson to be too tall and awkward, with overly large feet. 

Ever the hockey/curling fan Renfield had never played much baseball. But as a dead ringer for an American minor leaguer named Bubba Dean, Renfield’s superiors put a bug in the ear of the Kokanees owner that this guy was as good as his American look alike any day. And being just as superstitious as any other baseball player, the team manager agreed to give Bubba’s look alike a chance.

As luck, or fate, would have it, Gallegos had once met René Laurier and felt a great affinity for the man. Renfield was able to play upon his brother’s notoriety, and it didn't take him long at all to have Gallegos eating out of his hand.

Fortunately for the RCMP, but unfortunately for Renfield, his newfound friend was highly connected in the Colombian Villanueva drug cartel. Once Gallegos introduced Renfield to his ‘family’, and they learned of his brother’s reputation, Renfield’s undercover assignment took on a whole new direction. Just as Ray Vecchio had been trapped undercover in Las Vegas for the better part of two years, his life constantly in danger, Renfield now found himself trapped in Colombia.

Hell and high water came and went, mostly came, but the information Renfield was able to smuggle out was just too valuable to allow him to come in from the cold. His promised couple of months turned in to almost a year, in which time Renfield came very close to losing his sanity.

And then, quite accidentally, right after his American friends celebrated Thanksgiving, his cover was blown. His mother, of all people, made an off-handed remark in a Toronto bar that had been overheard by the wrong people. So drunk she could barely stay perched on her stool, Marie Laurier had whined that she’d had two sons, twins, one a con and one a cop. At least the con had made enough money to help his poor mother out, but then the cop had killed him. She had laughed at she announced his name to anyone who cared to listen, her joke of a son, the cop, was named Renfield.

A couple of phone calls later and Renfield’s fate was sealed. He was grabbed off a busy Cartagena street. Repeatedly beaten and tortured over the next several days, his captors finally gave up trying to get any information out of him, shot him in the stomach, and left him to bleed to death in a garbage dump just south of town.  
__________

Concepcion’s contacts alerted her to Renfield’s location almost as soon as his captors dumped him, and she was there just minutes afterward. If Renfield survived, he had only one person to thank – Concepcion Juarez. 

Once she had gotten him to the hospital, she knew her life was in danger too, but that was of no consequence to Concepcion. An older woman, who had lost her husband and eldest son to the Colombian drug wars, she took her involvement in the cause as a divine calling, and nothing, or no one would prevent her from doing her part in fighting the Villanueva Cartel. Plus, she was very fond of Renfield Turnbull, who reminded her of her dead son. He was kind and sensitive and driven to do the right thing, just like her Jaime.

Shortly after Christmas the RCMP breathed a collective public relations sigh of relief when his doctors announced that Constable Turnbull would survive. He would suffer horrendous physical and emotional scars, but he would live. They expected that he would be fit to travel, and could complete his rehabilitation at home sometime around the end of January.  
____________________________________________________

Her phone was ringing off the hook as Meg returned from lunch. Constable Hunt was apparently running late, which seemed odd to Meg. Hunt was a punctual, scrupulously organized, meticulous officer, and Meg found her to be extremely boring. She missed Turnbull. She missed his big feet, his clumsiness, his misplaced good deeds, his slightly skewed view of the world around him, and his general sunny disposition. Sure, sometimes he’d driven her to distraction, but he was certainly never boring. God, how she missed ‘her Constable’.

She shook off the depressing thoughts of the past as she grabbed the phone sitting on the foyer desk. “Good afternoon, Canadian Cons…”

“No need for the spiel, Margaret, it's Walter Scott.”

“Good morning Inspector, ah Superintendent! Congratulations on your promotion. I’ve been meaning to email you, but just haven’t been able to find the time. What--”

“Meg, I haven’t got time for pleasantries this afternoon. I, that is we, need you to come to Ottawa right away. We have something of a situation on our hands here, and we need your unique insight into the circumstances.”

“My insight?”

“Please, Inspector, we’ll explain when you get here.”

Meg hadn’t risen as far and as fast in the RCMP as she had by being dense. She recognized an order when she heard one. “Yes, Sir. I’ll be there as soon as possible. Is tomorrow soon enough?”

“Today is better. There is a private jet waiting at O’Hare right now. We’ll be waiting.”

Meg boarded the jet two hours after receiving the call.  
__________

She’d been to RCMP Headquarters before, of course, but the site of the building she had just spotted through the taxi window always caused her heart to beat a little faster. The power that the structure represented thrilled her to the core. Her exile to Chicago still rankled.

She strode across the huge, glassed in lobby as if she belonged no other place in the world. Although she would never allow any outward sign of it, she was rather nervous, and extremely apprehensive. She’d never received such a summons.

When she reported to the front desk, her apprehension increased. She’d thought she’d be directed to Superintendent Scott’s office, but instead the constable seated at the desk immediately rang through to Deputy Commissioner Whittle’s secretary.

“Please go right up Inspector Thatcher, sixth floor, they’re expecting you. The constable there will direct you to Deputy Commissioner Whittle’s office.”

Meg chuckled to herself. She’d never been on the sixth floor, she’d hoped sooner or later to work there, but after the ‘incident’, she’d found herself in Chicago.

‘What in the world could they want with me now?’ She thought for the hundredth time over the last three hours.

The constable who met her at the elevator didn’t even wait for her to introduce herself, he just led the way to the Deputy Commissioner’s office. 

Whatever she was expecting, she was not prepared for the opulence of Whittle’s office.  
The first thing she noticed about the room was the sea of deep blue carpet, with the RCMP crest sculpted in the center. Whittle’s huge mahogany desk was at the far end of the enormous room, in front of a glass wall looking out at the city skyline. The windows were flanked, floor to ceiling, on both sides with mahogany bookcases, filled with what she recognized to be countless volumes of law and history, the rich history of the RCMP. Just being in the same room with such archives made her proud. 

The room gave her the impression of a grand library that overwhelmed the person that it was supposed to 'belong' to. She knew immediately that no one person could own this space, someone might have sat at its desk, but no one person was powerful enough to have sole possession of what it represented. It made its occupants seem small and insignificant.

As she walked into the room, Whittle rose to greet her. The man she recognized as Walter Scott also rose from a tufted Moroccan leather wing chair.

“Inspector Thatcher. Thank you for coming so quickly. Please sit down.”

Meg was extremely uneasy. Scott barely smiled at her and didn’t speak. They had never been close friends, but they had always been at least friendly. She’d never met Whittle, but thought he looked decidedly nonplused. 

Meg sat in a chair that was the exact match to Scott’s. As she perched on the edge of her chair, Whittle shifted uncomfortably in his.

“Well, I guess there’s no easy way to say this, so I’ll just say it.” He cleared his throat and cracked his neck, a nervous gesture that reminded her of another RCMP officer she knew very well. She couldn’t help but smile just slightly. “A little over a year ago I summoned Constable Turnbull to this office. I presented him with an offer of an assignment, an undercover assignment . . .”

Meg felt herself slipping off the leather chair.

“Turnbull reluctantly agreed, with the proviso that the assignment only last a few weeks.” Whittle had risen from his chair and stood looking out at the view of the city. “No one, least of all me, expected the eventual outcome.” Whittle turned to face Meg. “Constable Turnbull did not die in that helicopter crash, Inspector. He’s alive, not well, but alive, and here in Ottawa.”

“Oh my God!” Meg could think of nothing else to say.

“Meg,” Scott interjected, “he’s hurt. Physically, but especially emotionally. He almost didn’t make it out. He wanted nothing more than to get home to all of you, but he knew what he was doing was important. We couldn’t get him out in time - he was discovered. He needs his friends and especially Kerri. He doesn’t want to see anyone, but he needs--"

“You can see why we feel it is necessary to handle this with the utmost discretion," Whittle interrupted. "We wouldn’t want the press to get wind of the situation. The force has had enough bad press lately.”

Whittle’s attitude sickened Meg. For the first time in her career she was ashamed, ashamed that such a man could represent the RCMP. “His wife is living with another man, who just happens to have been his best friend,” she whispered.

“Good God,” both men said in unison.  
____________________________________________________

They were just putting supper on the table when the phone rang. Ray didn’t want to answer it, certain that it was a telemarketer, they were the only ones who had the nerve to call at dinnertime. But Kerri couldn’t stand to listen to a ringing phone. 

“Hello? Hi, Meg.”

“Kerri, I’m in Ottawa. I need you to come up here as soon as you can.”

The tone of Meg’s voice alarmed Kerri. “Meg, what is it, are you okay?”

Ray was by her side in a second. “Somethin’ wrong with Thatcher? Where’s Fraser?”

“Meg?”

“I’m okay, I just need you to come up here. Can you meet me at RCMP Headquarters tomorrow morning at 10:00? There’s a 7:00 flight. We’ll explain then. Please?”

Kerri knew very well what flights there were from Chicago to Ottawa, and Meg knew that. But what concerned Kerri was she didn’t think she had ever heard Meg plead. And what had she meant by ‘we’? “Of course. If you need me, I’ll be there. Is there anything I can do in the meantime?”

“No. I’ll see you in the morning.” Meg hung up the phone and sank onto the bed in her hotel room. She thought of her earlier meeting with Renfield and buried her head in her hands and cried.

Kerri hung up on her end totally confused. She turned to Ray to answer his unspoken question. "She wants me to come to Ottawa, first thing in the morning.” Kerri wandered over to the sink and then hurried back to the phone. “I’ve got to make a plane reservation.”

“She didn’t say what was wrong?”

“No.” Kerri frowned. “But she wants to meet me at RCMP Headquarters. They probably just want me to come back to work for them--”

“Ya wouldn’t do that . . . ”

She pursed her lips at how easily Ray’s lack of confidence could resurface. But she knew that with constant reassurance he would be fine, so she hugged him tightly. “You know better than that. Give me a minute to make a reservation, and then I’ll convince you.”

“Make two ‘n I’ll pack a bag. We’ll go tanight.”

“Ray, you don’t have to--”

“Hey, she’s my friend to, and sides, we’ve never spent the night in a hotel tagether.” He grinned at her.

__________

Unlike Meg, the building Ray took pleasure in calling ‘the Mother ship’, no longer held any interest for Kerri. Once upon a time, about two lifetimes ago, this had been her place of employment, and the center of her universe. But that had been about two lifetimes ago. As she walked through the lobby, she was surprised to discover she felt rather ambivalent about being here again. 

Just as Meg had done, she also stopped at the reception desk, and just like Meg, she was surprised to learn that she was to proceed directly to Deputy Commissioner Whittle’s office.

She was doubly surprised when the young constable on the sixth floor showed her into Whittle’s office where Meg, Deputy Commissioner Whittle, and Walter Scott were waiting for her. She hadn’t seen her former boss since shortly after she and Renfield met, and she was genuinely glad to see him. “Walter, it’s good to see--”

“Hello, Kerri.”

Kerri was instantly alarmed. The tone of Walter’s greeting, combined with the looks from Meg and Whittle immediately put her on her guard. “What’s wrong? Meg? You all look as if someone died. Oh dear, Meg, something hasn’t happened to Benton!” She remembered that Ray had tried to get in touch with Fraser last night, but there was never an answer at their apartment.

“Mrs. Turnbull, would you please have a seat?” Whittle tugged nervously at the Windsor knot in his tie. “We have some, ah, news for you. It’s just that, that is, what I mean to say is . . .”

“Kerri, it’s about Renfield,” Meg began. “He didn’t die in that helicopter crash. It was staged to allow him to go undercover. He’s alive, Kerri.”

Kerri turned deathly pale and cast her eyes wildly from one occupant of the room to another, desperately seeking assurance that this was some sort of colossal joke. She began to slowly shake her head. “No,” she whispered.

Scott spoke up to assure Kerri it was true. “What Meg’s saying is true Kerri, Renfield is alive. He’s here in the building. He’s had a rather rough . . .”

The other three occupants of the room watched as Kerri became more and more agitated. “No . . . no. It’s not . . . he wouldn’t . . . it can’t be . . . NO!”

“I assure you, Mrs. Turnbull, your husband is alive. He’s been through quite an ordeal, but he’s recovering. He needs you right now.”

Kerri jumped up and shouted, “NO!” She shook her head violently from side to side, causing her hair to fall into her face.

Meg jumped up too and started toward her friend. “Kerri please, I know it’s a lot to absorb right now, but--”

Kerri slapped away the hand that Meg gently placed on her shoulder. “NO!” The other three, stunned into immobility, watched helplessly as Kerri bolted across the office, threw open the heavy wooden door, and ran headlong into an almost solid wall that was Renfield’s chest.

She glanced only briefly at his face as she screamed “NO!” and turned and ran down the hall. She didn’t see the contorted look of pain on his face, or Renfield fall back against Fraser, who was standing right behind him.

Renfield steadied himself against Fraser and then turned to follow her, but Fraser held his arm. “Give her some time, Renfield. Give her a few minutes alone. This is a lot for her to handle right now. Give her a minute.” It didn’t take much for Fraser to restrain Turnbull. He doubted that Turnbull could have made it down the hall under his own power anyway. The man was so weak he was barely able to stand. 

Meg was just a few seconds behind Kerri, but when she looked down the hall, Kerri was gone. She placed her hand gently on Turnbull’s arm. “Are you alright?”

Renfield didn’t respond, he just stared down the hall, in the direction that Kerri had fled.  
____________________________________________________

Kerri stumbled blindly down the six flights of stairs to the main lobby. She found the ladies washroom and promptly threw up the bagel she had eaten for breakfast. Without paying any heed to the other women there, she splashed water on her face and hurried out into the cold morning air.

She had no idea where she was going, she just knew she had to get away from that building. She turned down a side street, hoping to elude any one who might be following her. She turned again, and then again, until she was completely lost.

She’d worked in Ottawa off and on for several years, but this neighborhood was completely foreign to her. Still she forged ahead blindly, not knowing or caring where she was. 

Finally she ran up the steps and through the front doors of a dilapidated old church. She ran down the center aisle and collapsed to her knees in the front pew. She prayed as she had never prayed before, begging God to help her. Begging Him to take away the horrible pain in her chest that threatened to overwhelm and consume her. She begged Him to make her someone else, anyone else, who did not love two men. Someone who could not feel pain or sorrow or . . . love. Someone who had never known a man named Renfield Turnbull.

She’d never been a churchgoer, but Renfield had changed that. He’d always had a deep, abiding belief in God, and though he hadn’t attended regularly after Melanie had been killed, once Kerri had drawn him out of his emotional hiding place, he’d relished the idea of regular church attendance. 

She hadn’t been in a church since before the ‘accident’. She almost laughed out loud as she thought of it. The sham accident would be a more appropriate term. But now she felt God was the only One who could help her, if help were even possible.

Kerri was unaware of the man who slipped quietly into the darkness of last row after having followed her for the last several blocks. He watched her but did not intrude. Fraser only followed her to ensure that she was safe, no more. 

She prayed for a very long time before she became aware that her head was clearing and the pain in her chest had eased somewhat. She had none of the answers she sought, but she felt vaguely comforted. She rose from her knees to sit on the worn pew. The air in the building was stale and musty, but the sight of the tall wooden cross at the side of the altar offered her soul a small amount of peace.

Kerri slowly came back to herself. But she still had no answers as she sat on the pew in the deserted church trying desperately to come to terms with all that had happened.

She hadn’t wanted to look at Renfield, but she had. His face had been so very thin, his eyes, once what she considered his best feature, were sunken and lifeless, circled in heavy black. She tried unsuccessfully to push his image out of her mind.

She thought of Ray and panicked. ‘Dear God,’ she thought, she had to get to Ray! She couldn’t bear the thought of him finding out all of this from someone other than her. Thinking of someone other than herself forced her into action. She hurried out of the church, past her protector hidden in the shadows, and onto the quiet street. Not knowing which way to turn, she took her best guess and headed off.

She found a busy street and then a taxi. In a few short minutes she was back at the Marriott hotel, about two hours after she had run away from RCMP Headquarters.

____________________________________________________

Ray was shaving when he heard her come into their room. With only a towel wrapped around his waist and shaving cream on his throat he stepped out of the bathroom to greet her. “Why didn’t ya wake me up before ya went ta see--”

He almost passed out when he saw the man that the maid had let into their room.

“Holy shit!” he breathed. “Turnbull, yer alive!”

Renfield only glanced at him, before his gaze came to rest on a point somewhere over Ray's left shoulder. His brows knitted into a deep frown as he stared at the unmade bed.

“God, man, where ya been?” The taller man still did not respond but continued to stare at the bed.

“Answer me. We thought ya was dead.”

Renfield continued to stare at the bed, Ray’s words unheeded. Finally he turned his frown toward Ray. “I was told this was Kerri’s room. I’m looking for her,” he whispered.

Ray answered before he stopped to think about the implication of his response. “Sure, it’s her room too . . .”

Renfield’s frown deepened. “You’re sleeping with my wife?” he asked, matter-of-factly.

“We thought ya were dead. Where the hell ya been?” Instead of being thrilled that his friend was alive, Ray was rapidly becoming angry, and protective - of his future.

“Undercover.”

Ray returned the frown for the briefest of moments before the realization dawned on him. “Wait a minute. Ya left her - on purpose? Ya left her, all of us, ta think ya were dead?”

“You’re sleeping with my wife.”

Ray’s voice became even louder. “Ya left her? Do ya realize how much she suffered? How much she missed ya? How much we all miss--”

“You’re sleeping with my wife.”

“What are ya, some kinda broken record? Tell me why ya left her!” he shouted.

Ray, who would never be considered very perceptive, even in the best of circumstances, did not notice that far from being angry, Turnbull was simply resigned. Ray, on the other hand, was extremely angry, and the more Turnbull ignored his questions the angrier he became.

Renfield walked across the room to stand and stare at the bed, Ray close on his heels. “Ya’ve done some pretty shitty things ta her since we’ve known her, but this’s gotta be the shittiest!”

When Renfield did not answer his insult, Ray did the only thing he could think of, he grabbed his arm and forced Renfield to face him. He was only vaguely aware that Turnbull made no effort to resist him.

“Answer me, dammit! Tell me why ya left her ta suffer!” When he still did not answer, Ray lost it. He hauled off and punched him, his blow landing somewhere in the vicinity of Turnbull’s jaw. 

Miraculously able to maintain his footing, Renfield just stared at Ray. Just as Ray raised his fist to strike another blow, somewhere in the back of his mind he heard Kerri scream.

Kerri came through the open door just in time to see the man she loved strike the man she loved. She was frozen in her tracks briefly, unable to comprehend exactly what was happening. When she came to her senses she screamed. “Ray, NO! He’s hurt! Don’t--”

But Ray did not hesitate, his fist impacted Turnbull’s midsection, with only slightly less than the entire force he possessed.

Renfield fell to the floor at the same moment Kerri collapsed to the floor, in a dead faint. 

____________________________________________________

Kerri tried desperately to remain hidden in the world of unconsciousness, but loud, angry whispers invaded her refuge.

"Help Ben get him to a doctor--"

"But Kerri needs--"

"You've done enough Detective! Ben, get them both out of here before she comes around. The last thing she needs right now is to see the two of them together. GET OUT OF HERE!"

When she could no longer resist, Kerri moaned slightly and allowed her eyelids to flutter open. "Renny?" she asked as she struggled to sit up. She moaned again and grabbed for the side of her head.

“Just lie still. You fainted, and I think you may have bumped your head."

Kerri struggled against Meg's hold on her. "But Renfield is hurt. Ray hit--"

"Ben is taking him to see a doctor, which might not be such a bad idea for you, too."

"I'm okay, I'm just worried about Renfield." She looked at Meg squarely and stared until her eyes focused. "Is he badly hurt?"

Meg sighed very deeply. "I think they're both hurt, Kerri. Just as you are."

Kerri won her battle against Meg's hold and sat up on the bed. She spent several moments adjusting her clothing and shifting her position, before she made eye contact with Meg again.

"I said I was fine." The emotion behind her words did not quite reach her eyes. 

Meg was unconvinced. "Well if you're fine, then you are a hell of a lot stronger than I am. Kerri, why don't you just admit what a god awful mess this is, cry it out and then try to figure out what you're going to do."

Kerri looked Meg in the eye once again. "There's nothing to cry about."

Meg stood up and walked to the other side of the room. When she had gotten herself under some semblance of control she came back to sit beside her. “You are my friend. Probably one of the best friends I’ve ever had. But I really hate this about you. The way you won’t admit to yourself or anyone else that there’s a problem. Dammit Kerri, if I were you I’d be raising the roof, shouting at anyone who would listen about the injustice of it all.”

“Who would you like me to yell at, Meg? You? What earthly good would that do?”

“Maybe at least it would help you feel better.” She sighed deeply. “You’re going to have to make a decision you know?” ‘Damn, way to state the obvious, Meg,’ she thought.

“Decide? What you’re saying is I have to make a choice!” Her voice was becoming high and shrill. “A choice. Ha! That’s a laugh. What do you think I was doing before I came back here?” she gasped. “I was praying, that’s what! I went to a church to ask God to help me. But you know what His answer was? He didn’t answer! Even He can’t tell me what to do. Who would you choose? Renfield because he’s Canadian and ‘your Constable’, and you’ve never really liked Ray?” Her words were loud and hateful, and Meg was becoming alarmed.

“Kerri, that’s not--”

“Okay, let’s take inventory and see which one is lacking, shall we?” She paced the room like a caged animal. “Let’s see – first there’s Renfield. My husband. He left me. Of his own free will, he walked out on me to do what he considered his duty. And that wasn’t the first time. But now he’s hurt, and he needs me more than he ever has before. Oh, I know he doesn’t want my pity, but he needs me. And, dear God, I love him.” She paced faster and faster and her words kept up with her pacing. She was rapidly becoming hysterical.

“Then there’s Ray. Dear Ray, who never wanted anything more than for me to be happy. My happiness has always been the most important thing to him. He has always put me first, always, always. And we’ve been happy together. But he needs me too. And I need him. And dear God – I love him too!”

Kerri stopped dead in the center of the room and buried her head in her hands. “My God Meg, what am I going to do?”

She collapsed on the floor in a flood of tears. Meg ran to her friend and rocked her gently as she cried.  
____________________________________________________

Fraser sat ramrod straight, in the waiting room of the ER. His body was perfectly motionless, his features frozen, but his mind was a frenzy of thoughts. Second only to his concern for Renfield was how he was going to get Ray to calm down before he had a stroke.

Since Turnbull was rushed into an examining room all Ray had done was pace. If there had been hand and foot holds he would most certainly have climbed the walls too. Although Fraser showed not outward signs of it, Ray was about to drive him to distraction.

"Ray, please sit down. As soon as the doctor is finished with his examination he will come out and tell us. Pacing is only going to serve to wear a hole in the floor."

"How can ya just sit there? Turnbull's alive, 'n I may a just killed him. What the hell's the matter with him? He folded like a house a cards. He left her Frase, left her ta think he was dead. What the hell was he thinkin'?"

Fraser allowed just the briefest glimpse into the state of his emotions as he snapped at Ray. "Would you prefer me to answer those questions in the order that they were asked, or in the order of importance?” As soon as the words were out of his mouth he regretted them. Harsh words would do nothing to mollify the situation. “Sorry,” he sighed. “First of all I am not just sitting here, I am pacing too, in my mind. Second of all he just spent several weeks recuperating from being beaten and tortured. Don't look like that, you had no way of knowing he'd been undercover all this time, you were just trying to protect Kerri. Just as you've done for the entire time you've known her. As for what he was thinking, I don't know that I can answer that, but I suspect that he felt he was doing his duty. His duty to his country. You know as well as I do that Constable Turnbull sometimes has a, well, misguided sense of duty. Our superiors capitalized on both, and it appears that they may have made a mistake. At least for Constable Turnbull.”

"Ya mean he did choose ta leave her?"

"In a manner of speaking. As Meg explained it to me, the assignment was only supposed to last a few weeks. Renfield was not informed that his death was being staged. He thought that we would all be told that he was on special assignment and would be returning shortly."

Ray stopped pacing long enough to let what Fraser had said sink in. "Ya mean . . ."

"I mean that none of this is anyone's fault. It's just an extremely unfortunate set of circumstances." 'Circumstances in which everyone will suffer and no one will emerge unscathed', he thought.

"Shit," Ray muttered under his breath.

"Not precisely the word I would have used, but I believe it conveys the correct sentiment."

Ray thought about all that Fraser had said for a few minutes before he saw the doctor walk out of an exam room just down the hall.

“Hey! Doc! How’s Turnbull?”

“Are you the one who hit him? Well, despite your best attempts, he’ll be okay. I’m not sure he wants to see anyone, but he’s getting ready to leave. Oh, and you might want to lay off punching an injured man, who isn’t able to defend himself. Just a thought.” Disgusted, the doctor turned and walked away.

“Can I have a minute with him, Frase?”

“I’m not sure that’s such a good idea, Ray.”

“I’m not gonna hit him, I’m not even gonna yell at him. I just need a minute.”

Ray approached the examination room slowly, knowing full well that he would not be welcome, but also knowing he had to go. The nurse was helping Turnbull on with his shirt when Ray walked around the privacy curtain.

She stepped to one side just in time for Ray to see the man who had once been his friend. He stood, supporting himself by one hand gripping the back of a chair, with his back to the door.

“Holy shit!” Ray muttered. Turnbull’s back was crisscrossed with scars, healing, but still angry, red slashes that were the unmistakable stripes from a whip. As soon as he heard Ray’s curse, he grabbed at his shirt, in a painful, vain attempt to cover himself.

He turned to face Ray, and as he wrapped his shirt around him, Ray could see scars from restraints on his wrists and more healing wounds on his chest. And above the waist of his loose fitting sweatpants, a large bandage, covering the area where Ray’s punch had landed just a short time before.

“Looks like it was pretty rough,” Ray breathed. But Turnbull looked away, unable to meet Ray’s eyes. 

“I . . . I’m sorry, ya know?” Ray said, pointing to the bandage.

“You didn’t do this. I was shot.”

The lack of emotion in his voice reminded Ray of another time, when they were all in Las Vegas. That time seemed simple compared to this. A time when they were friends.

Renfield turned away and braced himself against the exam table. He needed the physical and emotional support for what he was about to ask. “Does she love you?” He tightened his grip on the table, bracing himself for yet another blow. At least this one would be emotional, not physical. As he thought about it, he wasn’t sure which was worse.

An hour before Ray had wanted nothing more than to protect his life with Kerri, and if that included hurting Turnbull then so be it. Now, however, he wasn’t so sure. But he sure wasn’t going to lie. “Yes,” he whispered.

“Maybe it would be best to get Renfield home, and we can continue this discussion when everyone has a clearer head.”

Both men realized the Fraser had been lurking near the door, there to offer comfort – or protection – to his friends.

They never did discuss it however. Ray flew back to Chicago that night without talking to anyone, including Kerri. Meg and Kerri returned to Chicago the next morning and Fraser waited in Ottawa for a few more days until Renfield was strong enough to travel the rest of the way home.  
____________________________________________________

They had only been home a few days when Fraser finally felt he had to intervene. He found intruding into the private lives of his friends extremely distasteful, but he found their suffering even more disagreeable. So, when he found himself in the wee hours of the morning on a stake out with Ray he felt compelled to broach the subject of what had happened in Ottawa.

“He’s never gonna show. All this waitin’s for nothin’. Monty the Mouth’s usually got good info, but this time he’s wrong. We oughta just get outta here.”

“Before we decide all of this waiting has been for naught, there’s something I feel I need to ask.”

“What?” Ray snapped.

“Well there’s no need to be terse, I haven’t asked you yet.”

“Well then, go ahead ‘n ask.” 

“Have you spoken to Kerri since we’ve been back?”

“None a yer business!”

“Ray, of course it’s my business. You’re my friend, and I’m concerned.”

“I don’t wanna talk about it.”

Fraser didn’t say another word, knowing his friend well enough to know that he really did want to talk about it, but in his own time. They sat in silence for several more minutes. Finally Ray slammed his hands against the steeling wheel, and then rested his forehead in the same spot.

“I can’t call her,” he whispered, “I know she doesn’t wanna talk ta me.”

“You can’t know that.” Fraser tried to reassure his friend.

Ray raised his head and glared at Fraser through the darkness. “Oh yeah? Ya weren’t there, ya didn’t see the way she looked at him, and the way she looked at me when I punched him. But I saw it!” Fraser could see the tears in his eyes before Ray turned quickly away. “I saw it, Fraser. The love she felt for him, ‘n the disgust she felt for me when I hit him.”

“You can’t know that until you talk to her. You need to clear the air and let her tell you how she feels.”

“So you’re takin’ my side? I’m a better friend then Turnbull?” Fraser thought that Ray sounded like a needy small boy, desperately seeking reassurance from a friend.

“You and Renfield are both my friends, and it saddens me to see you both suffer.”

“Well,” Ray sighed, “at least you’re still my friend.”

__________

The next morning, when Fraser reported for work at his regular time, he was surprised to find Constable Turnbull at the desk in the foyer.

“Turnbull, are you sure you should be here? You certainly must need more recuperation time.”

“I’m feeling fine, Sir, and I need something to do. My doctors have released me to work for a few hours a day, pending my progress. I really need to be here, Constable Fraser,” Renfield pleaded with him.

“Of course, Constable, I understand. Inactivity can be awfully – inactive.” Fraser figured that now was as good a time as any, so he cleared his throat and cracked his neck nervously. “Renfield, could I speak with you, ah, privately?”

Turnbull followed Fraser, painfully slowly. Once in Fraser’s office, the young Constable tried his best to stand at attention. Fraser saw the pain etched on his face but allowed him to retain his dignity. Only when decorum dictated did Fraser allow Turnbull to relax.

“Please, have a seat.” Fraser patiently waited the several painful moments it took Turnbull to lower himself into the chair before he continued, “ordinarily I would not presume to comment on a fellow officer’s personal life, but after all that’s happened I, ah, feel a need to ask. Where are you staying, and are you comfortable?”

Renfield was vastly relieved. He’d actually been afraid that they wouldn’t want him here. He’d always felt somewhat ineffectual, but never more so than now, he didn’t even have the strength to do a full day’s work. “I’m staying at the YMCA, and yes, I’m very comfortable. I’m moving back into my old apartment tomorrow. It’s small, but since there’s just . . . just me . . . it will suit me just fine.”

Fraser had to say it, “and Kerri?”

And Turnbull had to evade it, “I have no idea about Kerri, Sir.”

“You haven’t seen her? Renfield, you are more than just a fellow officer, you are my friend. And as a friend, I have something that I would like to show you. I think you really need to see it.”

Confused, Turnbull followed Fraser to the Consulate car. They rode in silence for almost a half-hour before they arrived at their destination, Riverside Cemetery. Fraser parked the car on a narrow lane, several yards from a large granite masoleum. 

The day was very cold, and the clear skies made the air feel frigid as both men walked through the gravesites. “I know you think she was unfaithful, but you never saw her here,” Fraser said as they drew closer to the familiar name on a plaque mounted on the wall. “She came here everyday, everyday, Renfield, everyday for a year. Meg or I used to follow her, just to be sure she was safe, but we finally stopped when we realized that no matter how often we came, Ray was already here. Sometimes he brought her, and sometimes he just watched over her. I have seen both of them, standing here, in the pouring rain, and I have seen them here when it was so hot even the mailmen weren’t outside.”

Renfield spoke softly, more to himself than to his companion. “The entire time I was held captive, while I was being beaten, I held the picture of Kerri in my mind’s eye. They striped me of everything, but they couldn’t take away my memories of her. Knowing that she was waiting for me was the only thing that kept me alive.”

“Renfield, you have to understand that she grieved for you, and only very recently did she try to get on with her life.”

“I guess I’ve spoiled that, haven’t I?”

“The three of you need to get this settled.” 

“Kerri has already settled it, Fraser. She left me, or as you say, let me go, for Kowalski. She loves him and I have accepted that.” Renfield turned and walked slowly away.

____________________________________________________

Unbeknownst to Fraser, at about the same time he was talking to Turnbull in the cemetery, Meg was at the bookshop sharing a cup of tea with Kerri.

“Do you remember the first time we were together here?” Meg asked as she sipped her tea.

Kerri sighed. “It seems like so long ago. I bought Renfield that copy of ‘A Christmas Carol’ that day. Everything’s really gone to hell since then, hasn’t it?”

“Unfortunately, I think I’d have to agree.” Meg hesitated.

“But?”

“What are you going to do?”

“I’m thinking of going back to Edmonton.”

Meg gasped in spite of herself. “No! You can’t do that! Your friends are here and your work is here. There’s nothing--”

“Nothing for me in Edmonton? I still own the house there. I’d have to evict the renters, but I do have a few friends left there, and I could certainly find a job in some accounting firm.”

“That’s not what I was going to say.”

Kerri sighed. “I know. I know. But I can’t stay here, where I might run in to one of them, I just can’t stand the thought--”

“You could choose.” Of all the things she had intended to say to Kerri, that was the one thing she had intended NOT to say. Damn.

Kerri stared at her half-empty teacup, trying to see the violets that lay painted on the porcelain at the bottom. But try as she might, they were just out of sight, just out of reach of her eyes. That struck her as odd, it was so much like she felt her future to be, just slightly out of focus, there, but not really there, waiting to be revealed, but yet remaining elusive.

“You make it sound like I could just pick one of them and everything would be fine again. Just pick a name – Renfield or Ray. I can’t choose, Meg. First of all I don’t believe either one of them wants me anymore, and second of all, if they did how could I possibly choose to destroy one of them?” The sadness in her voice brought tears to Meg’s eyes.

“How can you think that they wouldn’t want you?” she whispered.

“Renfield has always prided himself on his loyalty. He regards it as a great virtue, and I’m sure he believes I betrayed him.” Kerri saw Meg’s look of surprise. “You weren’t there, Meg, you didn’t hear him. He just kept repeating ‘you’re sleeping with my wife’, over and over and over again. Not a question, just a sad statement of fact. I broke his heart.”

She stared into the cold tea again. “And Ray. Damn it, Meg. We had just learned how to be truly happy. Have you noticed the changes in him?” Meg nodded as Kerri continued. “All he wanted was for me to be safe and happy, but he was becoming so much more self-assured, so much more at ease with himself. But I saw the look on his face when he saw me react to his hitting Renfield. It was like he had convinced himself that if Renfield was still alive then he was automatically out of the picture. The old lack of self-confidence just fell over him like a black shroud.” She carefully placed the dainty teacup back on to its saucer. “Even if I thought either of them still cared about me I could never choose between them.”

“I wish there was something I could do to help.”

Kerri smiled as she looked around the tearoom she loved so much. Meg saw so much sadness, but also resignation in her eyes. “If God can’t help me, there sure isn’t anything you can do. Except continue to be my friend. I don’t know what I would have done if I hadn’t had you to talk to.” Kerri started to get up, but then thought better of it. “Please take care of them? Especially Renfield? He takes things so much to heart, his time undercover must have been extremely hard on him. And now he believes I was unfaithful.”

Meg looked at her watch. It was far past time for her to report to work, but she hated to leave her friend alone, even if she was surrounded by customers in the shop. “I really have to go. Will you be okay?”

Kerri sighed. No, she would not be okay, but there was little she could do about it. “I’m fine. Lance is here, and Dickens. Between the two of them I couldn’t help but be fine, they smother me with attention.” Kerri couldn’t help but smile at the thought of Lance. He must spend an awful lot of time trying to figure out what he had gotten himself into when he came to work for her. “Lance is crazy to stay on here, but he does. And Dickens, well, fatherhood has made him a changed dog. He’s my protector now.”

Meg pulled on her gloves as she headed for the front door of the shop. She stopped just short of turning the knob. She turned around slowly to face her friend. “You’ll probably tell me to butt out, but I’m going to say one more thing. I don’t think you need to make a choice, because I think you already know who you belong with. You may not want to admit it to yourself, but I think you know.” Meg hurried out the door before Kerri had a chance open her mouth.

__________

Kerri may not have gotten the chance to voice a reply, but over the next several hours she certainly had time to think about it. By early that evening she knew Meg was right. She’d hidden from the truth. She’d been successful in her attempts to block it out of her mind, but Meg’s suggestion that she knew who she loved had brought the realization crashing down upon her.

There was really no choice to make, God had apparently answered her prayers, and she was too afraid to admit it. Now she knew, she just didn’t know what, or if she was going to do about it.  
____________________________________________________

The Judge Steps Out   
Ending Version 1

He walked into the dark room slowly, deliberately. His pace was much slower and much more deliberate these days, he knew, but he just accepted that as a fact of life. He was alone now, and he let the weight he bore determine his gait. He didn’t bother to turn on the lights or turn up the heat, the cold and darkness didn’t bother him, in fact, he rather liked them, they somehow seemed to suit him.

He realized he wasn’t alone almost immediately. The room may have been totally dark, but he could sense her presence. He couldn’t see her, but he knew she was there.

“Kerri?”

Her response was painfully slow in coming. “I’m here,” she whispered, but her words rang loud and clear to his ears. “I had to come . . . I tried to stay away . . . I . . . I wanted to stay away.”

He stood completely motionless in the center of the room, afraid to move, to speak or to believe that she was really there. As his eyes adjusted to the darkness he could see her vague silhouette outlined against the far wall.

“I’m so tired of hurting, of all the hurt. Of seeing the hurt on other faces. Of being the cause of that hurt. I just wanted to stop feeling. But I found out I couldn’t stop it, stop loving you. I tried, God knows I tried, loving you just hurt too much . . . I just couldn’t stop the pain or the love. What is it with me that I can’t seem to have one without the other?”

Still afraid to move, he remained silent.

“It doesn’t matter to me any more what happened or what may happen, all I know is I will never stop loving you. I had to think of myself for once. So I’ve come to try to convince you that I still . . . to ask . . . to ask you if, after all that’s happened, after all that’s been done, if . . . if there’s any chance for us?” 

Kerri ran out of breath and out of nerve. He still hadn’t said anything, and she was beginning to believe that he never would. She had laid everything on the line here, and if he rejected her, her life might just as well be over.

“He know?” 

“Yes.” Although she fought desperately not to, Kerri started to cry. And although he could not see her clearly, he could hear the tears in her voice. “I went to see him just before coming here. I had to tell him first,” she sobbed. “He said it didn't matter to him, but I know I hurt him very badly.”

He walked slowly over to her and drew her into his arms. 

The End

The Judge Steps Out   
Ending Version 2

Renfield was inclined to ignore the knock at his door. He wasn’t expecting visitors, and really didn’t care to see anyone, anyway. But the knocking became increasingly insistent, so he reluctantly responded.

As soon as he opened the door he understood why the knocking had seemed so impatient – the person doing the knocking was the most impatient person he had ever met – Ray Kowalski.

“I was beginnin’ ta think no one was here. Can I talk ta ya a sec?”

Of all the people in the world Renfield did not want to talk to, Kowalski was right at the top of his list. His face must have expressed his thoughts, because Ray sighed and brushed carefully past his former friend.

“I got sumthin’ ta say, ‘n yer gonna listen. Then I’ll get outta here and never darken yer door again.” Ray marched farther into the small room and turned to face Renfield.

“Sit! Ya still look like yer about ready ta fall down.” There was no anger in his words, but they were not particularly friendly either. “Did ya know Kerri’s leavin’ town? Ah, I didn’t think so. She came ta tell me goodbye yesterday.” Ray looked away momentarily, searching the far corner of the room for something. What he was searching for was probably his nerve, which he apparently found. “She told me that she couldn’t stay in Chicago any more, feelin’ bout you the way she does, ‘n knowin’ how you feel bout her – me – me ‘n her. She still loves,” Ray sighed, “dammit, she loves you.”

Renfield looked at Ray with something akin to contempt.

“Ya think this’s easy fer me? Ya think I like comin’ ta the guy that hurt her so bad ‘n tellin’ him ta go after her? As far as I’m concerned yer a sonofabitch who put everybudy through hell, specially her. But fer some reason I don’t know she loves you, not me, you.”

Ray could see a change come over Renfield. “She told you that?”

Saying the words once was one of the hardest things he had ever done, so Ray really didn’t relish the idea of saying them again. Somehow the second time made his words all the more final. “She came ta say she was sorry, but she would always love you. I tried ta talk her outta it, but she said she had ta go.” He walked to the window and stared at the garbage in the alley, unshed tears forming in his eyes. “I know ya think she was unfaithful, but if ya gotta blame sumbudy, blame me.” He turned to face Turnbull, sorrow giving way to anger. “But I gotta say one thing. I was yer friend and I never did a thing to encourage her, not until ya’d been gone fer a year. Sure I loved her. But both of us wanted ta honor yer memory. She was lonely ‘n sad. Did ya know she slept with that damn stuffed wolf, every night? She didn’t want anybudy ta know, but she did. God! I think she pretended it was you!”

“I’m sorry.” 

Ray was shocked by Renfield’s whispered response. “What?”

“I’m sorry.” He spoke more loudly this time and with more determination. “Fraser took me to the cemetery. He said Kerri went there everyday, and that more often than not you took her.” He hung his head. “I never meant for you, for either of you, to be hurt.”

“You gonna stop her? Keep her from leavin’?”

“Do you think she’ll listen to me?”

“Man, ya gotta try.”

Renfield stared at Ray for several moments, obviously coming to a momentous decision. “You love her very much, don’t you?”

Ray turned his full attention to a piece of paper blowing down the alley. “Yeah,” he whispered.

“And you’re willing to give her up for me?”

Ray did not respond right away, knowing he needed to measure his words carefully. “I’m tryin’ ta do the right thing, fer her.”

“I know I’ve said it before, but it’s been a very, very long time.” Renfield stood and offered Ray his hand. “Thank you for being our friend.”

Ray turned and left the apartment without acknowledging Turnbull’s gesture.

__________

Renfield walked into the bookshop for the first time in over a year, and the memories threatened to overwhelm him. Very little had changed and he was immensely grateful to Kerri for keeping most everything the same way he had kept it locked in his memory.

Lance saw him from the back of the shop and came running. He threw his arms around him without realizing the pain that Renfield still suffered from his beatings. Renfield flinched slightly, but Lance didn’t notice.

“God, it’s so good to see you! When they told me you were still alive I couldn’t believe it! Thank God! We’ve needed you around here. Are you here to see Kerri? She’s leaving, but just between you and me, I don’t think she wants to go. Please try to talk her into staying?”

Lance’s exuberance was contagious, and Renfield couldn’t help but smile. “Is she here?”

Lance looked up the stairs. “She’s packing.”

Without another word, Renfield headed for the second floor apartment.

He found her in the bedroom, curled up asleep in the window seat. He glanced briefly at the four poster bed that had once belonged to his parents. Brushing aside the fleeting question of whether Kerri and Kowalski had ever been together there, he stopped in the doorway to stare at the vision of his little family. Kerri’s head rested against the window, her even breathing causing the cold glass to fog, then clear, then fog again. The sunlight warmed the place when she slept, but she had still covered herself with her mother’s old afghan. He smiled slightly, she looked like a sunflower, wearing a yellow sweater and covered by the green blanket, her face turned toward the sun.

She had drawn up her knees, and Dickens slept on her feet. He opened his eyes slightly as he heard Renfield approach, and wagged his tail hesitantly, as if not wanting any one to interrupt his private time with his mistress. Renfield signaled him to be quiet, and the once silly pup, now adult dog, went back to sleep.

Renfield walked silently toward the window, trying desperately not to break the spell that lingered over the room. However, the sight of several sealed boxes, and even more that were half full, brought reality crashing down around him. He had willingly walked away from all of this, missed a full year of the love and happiness that had existed in this place.

His sadness increased ten-fold when he saw what Kerri cuddled against her chest as she slept. Wolffy. What had Ray said? That she pretended that Wolffy was him? He prayed that she would want to hold him again, just as she was holding Wolffy now.

He pulled Dickens off the seat and sat next to her. He just sat and stared at her for several moments, afraid to awaken her, afraid of what she might say. Dickens had apparently realized who he was, because he was beginning to cause quite a ruckus, especially with his tail.

“Shh,” Renfield whispered softly, “don’t wake her up. I want just a little more time with her while she’s sleeping.” To his immense amazement, Dickens stared at him for a moment, then glanced at Kerri, and turned and left the room. Renfield smiled, Kerri had always said he was perceptive, but Renfield had never believed it. Now he knew she was right, Dickens was one smart pooch.

Finally, when he could no longer resist, he gently touched her knee. “Kerri?” He whispered. He watched as she turned toward the sound of his voice but did not open her eyes. It was then that he noticed the lines around her mouth and eyes. She had aged dramatically in the last year. If he hadn’t believed it before, he now knew with certainty that the last year had been as hard for her as it had been for him.

“Kerri?” he whispered again as he gently shook her knee. 

Kerri opened her eyes but didn’t respond for a moment, apparently unsure of where she was. It only took her a split second to realize though. “Renfield? What are you--”

He pulled his hand away from her knee and sat up as straight as he was able to, given his injuries. “I came to talk to you. I heard you were leaving . . .”

Kerri sat up too, carefully avoiding his eyes. “I was writing you a note about all this. I didn’t know if you would be moving back in here, but if not I think that Lance and Art would very much like to live here. That is if you want to keep Lance on in the shop. He’s done a really wonderful job, he’s had to cope with quite a lot the last--”

Renfield interrupted her nervous stream of words. “I’d rather you stayed.”

“What?” The question was barely a whisper.

“I’d rather you, that is we, stayed here.” Renfield found himself near tears. He hadn’t thought that he’d ever shed a tear for her again, but he was about to prove himself wrong. “I love you, Kerri. I was so hurt when I first came back. While I was gone I had to make myself believe that nothing here would change. It was the only way I could survive all the . . . it was the only thing that kept me going. When I found out that you and Ray were, were together, I just couldn’t stand it. But I was so wrong to think – to think that nothing would have changed. But Fraser and, and Ray convinced me that I was a fool.”

Kerri’s face contorted in a vain attempt to keep from crying, as she reached out to touch his cheek. She was shocked when he recoiled from her touch. “Renny, I’m so sorry . . . ”

He grabbed her hand and held her palm to his cheek. Closing his eyes he let the warmth of her touch course through his body, warming even the darkest, coldest parts of his soul. After a few moments he opened his eyes. "Please don’t be sorry, it’s not you. It’s me. I just have trouble with people touching me.” He looked away and sighed. “I’m not sorry that I took the assignment. I’m proud of what I did. It may not have made as much of a difference as what Lieutenant Vecchio did in Las Vegas, but I really feel like I did my part.” He hung his head and avoided her eyes. “I’m just sorry you were hurt so badly, I never meant . . .”

Very slowly and very gently Kerri touched his chin. She tugged lightly to urge him to face her. “You’re home now, and that’s the important part. Whatever happened, however we were hurt, we can start working on healing.”

She kissed him lightly on the cheek and apologized to God. He had heard her prayer and had given her an answer better than any she could have hoped for.

The End of version 2

The Judge Steps Out  
Ending Version 3

Sometime, many lifetimes ago, Kerri thought she would live out her life ensconced in this wonderful shop. She remembered the day Renfield had given it to her, the broad red ribbon that Benton and Ray had hung on the outside, and the gigantic red bow that Renfield had made. She remembered the exact moment when she had first seen Dickens, tumbling down the stairs, with that ludicrous red ribbon tied around his neck.

She had never been as touched as she was the moment Renfield pulled the scarf away from her eyes and the realization hit her. The bookshop was hers - theirs. She had loved every moment she had spent here, until the day the Benton and Meg came to tell her that Renfield was dead.

Somehow, standing here now it seemed that she would have been better off if Renfield really had died. Even though she suffered terribly after his death, she had at last found peace - with Ray.

But now Renfield had come back, and she had lost both of them. Renfield believed that she had betrayed him, and Ray believed that she couldn’t love him with Renfield around.

Kerri looked around the narrow room full of books. The tall shelves that went all the way to the high ceiling, that were next to impossible to dust, the glass cases that held the rarest, most valuable of the books, that she could never keep the children's fingerprints cleaned off the glass. If she had been able to take a cold, clinical look at it, the place really was too much for her to manage. If she had been able to take a cold, clinical look.

But Kerri had never been able to think objectively about this place. It was more than her place of business, or her home. It was a part of her soul. And she had just signed the papers that sold that piece.

The sale wasn't final, of course. Renfield still had to sign the papers, since the shop had always been in his name. Getting him to sign them wasn't a problem though; it was his idea to sell it. At least that's what Michael, his lawyer, had told her. Kerri had not seen Renfield since he returned to Chicago. She'd tried to see him, and even sent him a message through Benton. But just like the old Elvis song, he had returned it to sender, unopened.

Kerri had seen Ray - once. That meeting had been something close to a disaster. She had gone to the 27th Precinct, thinking that he wouldn't be able to send her away with so many people around, but she had been totally wrong. He yelled so loudly and made such a scene that she fled the Station and never tried to see him again.

Meg tried to give her updates on Renfield's progress, and even made a few teasing, snide remarks about Ray, but after several days, Kerri just turned a deaf ear to Meg's comments. It just hurt too much to hear about either one of them. She had long since come to terms with the fact that she was still in love, and just as Meg had once told her, she knew who she was in love with. But it really didn't matter since that love would never again be returned.

Shortly before he left, Kerri held Lance in a tight embrace as they both cried. "I'm so sorry it turned out this way, but with the new Barnes and Noble Store coming in around the corner, they're just going to tear it down. Apparently the land is more valuable to Norris Properties as a parking lot." Kerri reluctantly let him go and walked over to the front counter. "I got something for you. It's not much and could never repay you for all that you've done." Kerri didn't even bother to wipe her tears. "First, I've written the most glowing recommendation that I can think of to the new manager at Barnes and Noble. And second, I want you to have this."

When he saw what Kerri held in her hand he gasped. "But that's Renfield's copy of 'A Christmas Carol'. He loves that book! I can't accept it, it's too--"

"He doesn't want it anymore. Apparently he doesn't want anything that reminds him," she had to take a deep breath before she could continue, "that reminds him of me. You are the only other person I can think of who would appreciate it. Knowing that you have it for safekeeping will make this a whole lot easier for me. Please?"

Lance took the small volume from her, kissed her on the cheek and ran out of the shop.

__________

Kerri stood, surrounded by her suitcases, in the center of the almost empty shop. It was no longer a bookshop, as all but just a handful of books had been sold. Even the movable shelves and cases were gone. She was surprised to learn that most of the furniture in the shop was antique and fetched a rather good price. Renfield had made a tidy return on his investment.

Michael told her that Renfield had offered to split the profits with her, but somehow it felt to her as if they were dividing the body of a friend. Kerri didn't want the money. She wanted her shop, her home and her soul back in one piece. She sighed, resigned to the fact that that was never going to happen.

She held her plane tickets in her hand, waiting impatiently for Meg, who was apparently running late. As she waited she began to wander around the room that had once housed Renfield’s children’s reading room. She had just gotten out of sight of the front door when she heard someone knocking. Thinking it was Meg, she gathered up her things and answered the door.

“Hey lady, you work here?”

“Not anymore,” she whispered. “I own, ah, owned the building. What can I do for you?” she asked the two workmen who stood there.

“Got a work order here ta take down the sign. That the one up there? Says ‘Great Expectations?”

“I’m sorry, but I didn’t ask to have the sign removed.”

The shorter, older man held up a pink piece of paper, which held a signature Kerri recognized immediately. “I guess my husb . . . Mr. Turnbull ordered it.” Kerri wasn’t sure she could take one more thing. “Could you please just wait until after I leave to remove it?”

“Lady, we get paid by the job. Sooner we get done, sooner we get ta the next one.”

“I’ll be leaving in just a minute.” Kerri sighed and reached into her bag. “Twenty dollars to wait?”

The younger man snatched the bill out of her hand. “Ya got it lady.”

The two men returned to their truck just as Meg and Fraser drove up. Kerri silently blessed Benton for his thoughtfulness, he’d worn jeans and a Henley shirt, knowing how the sight of red serge saddened her.

Fraser left Meg and Kerri alone in the shop and took the luggage to the car. Meg looked around the nearly empty room. “It certainly looks huge, doesn’t it?”

“And empty.” Kerri tried valiantly to put a brave face on all that was happening. “I never realized how big this place really is.” She knew she was stalling, it was time to go and she was having trouble moving toward the door.

“We had better be leaving soon, if you want to make that plane,” Fraser said as he came back through the door.

“If you don’t mind, I’d like to say good-bye here? I’d like for you to just drop me at the curb.” She embraced Meg tightly. “You’ve been my friend from almost the first moment we met. I’ll miss you. Please come and visit?”

“You know you really don’t have to . . .” Meg reluctantly let her go and looked at her friend. “I can’t do this,” she sobbed and rushed out of the shop.

Kerri turned to Benton. “I know things like this make you uneasy, but I may never have another chance to say this. I have never known anyone like you, Benton. You are the strongest, bravest, most caring man I have ever known. Everything good that Renfield has become is directly or indirectly because of you.” Fraser began to blush, and Kerri knew she was embarrassing him, but she had to continue. “Please watch out for him? You know how he can be, sometimes he needs – redirecting.”

She put her arms around his neck and hugged him. He found himself holding on for just a little longer than entirely necessary. “Meg and I will miss you. We . . . that is I . . . have always considered you one of the loveliest women I have ever known. I’m sorry that things had to end this way.”

“Watch over Ray, too? He needs the closeness of a good friend. Wild horses could never drag the admission out of him, but he needs your help to bolster his self-confidence.”

Fraser was so used to being used by love that her sentiments confused him. “After all that’s happened you still care for them, both of them?”

“I guess I do.” She walked slowly through the door but couldn’t find the strength to close it. Fraser waited until she was in the car before he quietly pulled the door to.

The two workmen waited until the car rounded the corner. “Kinda shame, them tearin’ this place down. That’s progress or sumthin’. She’s gone, let’s rip that thing down ‘n get outta here too.” 

The ‘G’ was down in about two minutes, next came the ‘R’ and so on, and so on, and so on.

The End of Version 3

The Judge Steps Out  
Ending Version 4

It took him several days, but Ray finally came to a decision. His head ached and his mind was numb, but he’d finally done it – decided – he still loved Kerri and he wanted her to know it. He believed she still loved Turnbull, but damn it, to Ray’s mind Turnbull had treated her like shit one too many times.

He would have never admitted it to himself, but he was scared shitless to walk through the door. He stood on the street outside the bookshop for several minutes, studying the traffic, studying the people passing by on the sidewalk, studying his boots, studying anything to avoid confronting his fear. Finally, when he could no longer stand it, he grabbed the doorknob and burst into the shop.

Once inside the first thing he saw was Lance, who was so startled by the noise of someone flying through the door that he dropped the package he was about to hand to the mailman. 

“Jeez, buddy, ya look like someone was chasin’ ya!” The letter carrier picked up the parcel and left the shop. 

Lance eyed Ray warily. He knew how happy Kerri had been once she and Ray had gotten together, and he liked the Chicago cop. But Renfield was his friend, and he wanted with all his heart for Renfield and Kerri to work it out.

“Kerri here?” Ray asked.

“No.” 

“Know where she is?” 

Lance hesitated, he really didn’t want to upset Kowalski, but telling him where Kerri was might just put an end to all of this. “Yes. She . . . uh . . . she went out.”

“Where?” Ray was rapidly becoming impatient with Lance. He obviously had something on his mind and Ray wished he’d just spit it out.

“She went to see Renfield.” Lance said the words before he could change his mind, and immediately wished he hadn’t. He’d never intentionally hurt another human being as much as he could see he’d hurt Kowalski. “I’m sorry, Detective, she left just a few minutes ago. She said she couldn’t stand it anymore, not talking to him. Do you want me to tell her you came by?” he asked gently.

Ray tried his best to be nonchalant. “Nah. I’ll see ‘em around - I guess.” He turned and hurried out the door.

‘Damn,’ Lance thought, ‘I wish I hadn’t done that. That was really unkind.’

__________

He stopped at the Quik Stop around the corner before he headed back to his apartment. A six-pack seemed to be just the ticket to cure what ailed him. But as Ray reached his door, he knew even the beer couldn’t heal a broken heart.

Walking into his place he tripped over a stray boot. His anger and frustration just boiled right on up to the surface, and he picked up the unsuspecting shoe and heaved it at the far wall.

'Now,' he thought, 'don't that make ya feel a hell of a lot better? Yeah, right.'

He put the bag in the refrigerator after grabbing out one can. But rather than drink the beer, he just rolled the can around on his forehead, as he sat in his recliner. He'd wished desperately that he had never heard the names Kerri and Turnbull.

He'd been there only a few minutes when someone knocked on his door. He wasn't about to answer it though, there was absolutely no one he cared to see. The knocking continued for several moments until he couldn't stand it anymore. "Go away!" he shouted, but the knocking continued.

"This better be good!" he yelled as he threw open the door. Rather than be angry with the intruder, she immediately put him on the defensive.

"Hey," he whispered as he turned away and walked back into his apartment.

"May I come in?" Kerri asked softly.

"Door's open. I ain't stoppin' ya."

Kerri followed him but did not say a word.

The silence finally made Ray crack. He was angry and hurt and he tried desperately to hide behind sarcasm. "I 'spose ya've come runnin' here ta tell me ya've thrown over Turnbull, 'n ya can't live without me, 'n ya want me back." 'Yeah, right,' he thought.

"Yes."

Ray was on a roll with his sarcasm and didn't immediately hear what she said. "Well, all I can say is I hope the two of ya are happy, 'cause far as I'm concerned ya deserve-- What?"

"I said 'yes'," she whispered.

Not believing his ears, Ray cocked his head to one side, as if to hear her more clearly. "I don't get it. 'Yes' what?"

“Yes, I’ve come here to tell you I can’t live without you.”

Ray was so dumbfounded he couldn’t speak.

“I realized that not only had I lost my lover, but I’d lost my best friend. I had to see if . . . if there is any--”

“Lance said ya’d gone ta see Turnbull. I thought ya were makin’ up with him.”

Kerri stood half a room away but Ray could hear her sigh. “I’m sorry he told you that, but I did go to see Renfield. I had to tell him that I loved you.”

Ray stayed on the other side of the room, still afraid. “What’d he say?”

Kerri closed her eyes and sighed again. “He’s changed, retreated into himself so far that I don’t know how anyone will ever reach him. He didn’t even want to see me, Benton had to intercede.” 

Ray hated to see her so terribly sad. “What’d he say ta ya?”

“He said he understood that I had not been unfaithful, that I believed he was dead. He was completely clinical and detached. He spoke to me as if I was a complete stranger. I didn’t . . .” She couldn’t say another word, tears threatened to overwhelm her.

Ray had her in his arms in two steps. He held her tightly as she buried her head in his shoulder. He rested his cheek on the top of her head and thanked God.

“The RCMP’ll help him, honey. They’ll get him counselin’ or sumthin’. He’s been through a lot, but he’ll be okay. We gotta work on gettin' you okay again.”

Kerri smiled against his chest and returned his hug. “Same old Ray, always thinking of me first. I think that’s one of the things I love most about you.”

“I couldn’t hear ya, what’d ya say?”

Kerri’s smile deepened. “You mean the part about loving you?”

“Yeah! That part.”

Kerri ran her hand up and down his back. “How do you do that?”

“What?”

“Be so slender and so sexy, at the same time?”

“Hey, I’m a lean, mean, sex machine.”

Kerri pulled away from him and looked deeply into his eyes. “I love you,” she whispered, “please tell me that you believe that?”

“I just have trouble believin’ you’d pick me over – over him.”

“I didn’t pick you!” She pushed away and stood facing him. “I fell in love with you when I thought Renfield was dead. I couldn’t have stopped loving you just because he’s still alive. Ray, you’ve got to believe me.”

“So ya never stopped lovin’ me?”

“The first time I really knew I loved you was that night right before Christmas. I have loved you every moment since that time.” She sighed heavily. “I had to be reminded once, but I have to know that you don’t doubt it.”

“I did doubt it. I thought ya loved Turnbull more then ya loved me, ‘n when he came back I just thought that ya’d go back ta him.” Ray smiled at her and took her in his arms again. “But I believe it now!” He kissed her with his entire body, holding her so tightly she could barely breathe.

“Sorry, I’m just so glad yer here, I guess I squeezed ya a little too tight.”

“And I can tell you’re very glad to see me.” She giggled. “There’s only one thing that would make this night even better--”

Ray, always anxious to grant her every wish, wanted to know what he could do, immediately. “What? What do ya need?”

“This night would be so much better if Big Ray could come out and play.”

He grabbed her hand and pulled her toward the bedroom. “Let’s see if we can convince him.”

The End of Version 4


End file.
